Boy
by Not-a-fanatic-just-a-fan
Summary: Dumbledore sent Snape to check in on Harry Potter a few years before he was due at Hogwarts. What he sees, causes Snape to decide that the Dursley's were NOT fit to be guardians. He rescues Harry, an abused boy that doesn't even know his own name. Abused Harry/Papa Snape to the rescue story. Mentions of child abuse. Just a fluff story of Snape taking care of Harry. No real plot.
1. Chapter 1

Boy knelt on his knobby knees, stained green and brown from the dirt and grass. He was gardening. He liked gardening. He could work without interruption. That was one of the good things about gardening. He liked to pretend that the garden was his, that he was a grown man with his own house and he was taking care of his garden. Or, on particularly hot, humid nights, like tonight, he could pretend that he was a secret agent, or a pirate, or –

The crickets chirped loudly, startling him out of his reverie. Best be getting on with his chores. If he finished quickly, he could get a few hours' sleep in before his morning chores. After almost nine full years of chores, he was fast and efficient at them. Not that he let Them know. If They did, They would find more chores for him. Sometimes, he wouldn't finish one of his chores on purpose so that They'd think it was a struggle to finish his workload. Sure, They punished him for it, but he got the feeling They liked punishing him. Sort of a stress reliever type thing. Gardening done, Boy stood on his stained and calloused, bare feet and stretched, feeling the pleasant crack and pop of his back as it straightened from kneeling hunched over for so long. He looked up at the night sky, the few stars that were visible blinked feebly, trying to pierce their way through the light pollution of Surrey. The moon was waning, a sideways grin, smiling down on Boy. He smiled back. He always felt comforted by the moon. Probably because it meant that They were asleep.

He put away the tools he had used and turned on the hose slightly, the cool water flowing gently out. He took a long drink, then used it to clean himself up a little, just a quick rinse down to get rid of the outer layer of dirt. Ma'am didn't like it when he tracked dirt. He couldn't get rid of everything, much of it he suspected was permanently ground into his skin. He doubted even a hot bath with soap and a scrub brush would be effective. He smiled, watching the water flow over his hand. He wondered what a hot bath would be like. When he washed the dishes, he would immerse his arms as far into the water as he could and reveled in the feeling of warmness enveloping him. He imagined it was what a hug from a loving person was like.

Turning off the hose, he shook his limbs off, trying to dry as much as he could. Going to sleep wet wasn't pleasant. He headed for the garbage bins that stood out on the curb like everyone else's on the street. Quietly with practiced movements, he opened one of them and untied the bag on top. Directly on top of the rest of the garbage, sat a plastic grocery bag, tied up. He pulled it out, then retied the trash bag, tightly this time, before placing the lid back on the bin and headed for the backyard, then inside, making sure to lock the door behind him. As silently as he always was, a trait so long ingrained he no longer thought about it, he entered his cupboard under the stairs, closing it with a soft click.

Sitting cross-legged on his tiny mattress that once padded his crib, he untied the bag and smiled at the treasure within. Since he was in charge of cleaning, and They were rather wasteful people, Boy could sneak a lot of leftover food. He made sure to sneak food that would last, as he had to wait until trash night to collect it. That, and it needed to last him a long while. No telling when They would remember to feed him. Once, They forgot for almost a full month before Ma'am remembered to put out some stale bread and gristle. He never complained. _That_ never worked and usually ended up having the object of complaint taken away till he 'learned to appreciate it.'

Bread heels, bruised fruits, and pretty much all of Dudley's vegetables (at least the ones that were given raw to dip in ranch. Those lasted longer than cooked ones.) These were all normal pickings. But tonight, was special. Tonight, Dudley had thrown a large fit because he wanted burgers, not the spaghetti with meatballs and sauce offered. So, Sir and Ma'am had driven out and gotten five burgers all for Dudley while They finished Their spaghetti. Dudley's leftovers were to be thrown out. Which meant that they were fresh enough for Boy and plentiful enough that Boy had to limit how much he took. He knew, from a previous experience like tonight, that he couldn't eat much even if it was available. _That_ had been a disaster.

He pulled out a plastic fork, one of the throw away ones They get from Their take-out that he kept a supply of, washing them when he could. The spaghetti was stored in a sandwich bag that had once held crisps for Dudley at one point but had since been rinsed out and used for moment like this. Boy paused for a moment to smile down at the still slightly warm food in his lap. He'd been able to seal it while it was hot just a few hours ago. Smiling at his good fortune, he tucked in happily.

* * *

Severus Snape was _not_ in a good mood. People who sort of knew him would say he was never in a good mood. For that matter, people who knew him well would say the same thing. He'd just come from a meeting. Meetings with Headmaster Dumbledore were always vexing. At least, they were to Severus. With his blasted calm smile and his bloody twinkling eyes. How, in the name of Merlin, do eyes perpetually 'twinkle'?

He scowled at the cooling fireplace where he'd just flooed from. Of course, it would be up to _him_. Of course, no one else was available or could effectively disguise as a muggle. Never mind that _he_ was busy. Never mind that _he_ loathed Lily's sister and such sentiments were returned. Never mind that _he_ had an extensive list of potions to brew, many of them for Hogwarts of Dumbledore himself! No, it was Snape, the one who apparently had oodles of time on his hands. Snape, the one who would be 'delighted' to visit long-lost 'friends'. Severs snorted. 'Acquaintance' was too strong a word, never mind 'friends'. Sighing to himself, he shook his dark hair out of his equally dark eyes. No use procrastinating. Albus will continue to badger him until the distasteful deed was done. Like eating vegetables before the meatloaf. Get the unpleasant task done first so it's not hanging over your head. He gave another sigh and trudged up the narrow step to his bedroom. He always kept a supply of muggle clothes, needed them for when he bought groceries and the like. He _could_ apparate to wizard's grocers, like many did, but he enjoyed the anonymity of muggle stores. He was never likely to run into an old acquaintance that simply _had_ to stop and catch up. He pulled out dark slacks and a dark button-up shirt, magically kept crease-free in his closet. He quickly dressed, pulling on comfortable yet worn dark shoes. Lastly, he pulled his hair back in a small tie at the nape of his neck. While he would never do this normally, having far too much resemblance to Lucius' preferred style, he conceded for trips like this when he would have to look the part of a muggle professor.

Ready as he'd ever be, he threw on a light sweater (dark in coloring) that had a special pocket on the inside for his wand, which he carefully tucked inside before turning on the spot and disappearing with a lout crack.

Little Whinging, Surrey was just as detestable as its name, in Severus' opinion. Most places were, but the cookie-cutter houses with the perfectly manicured lawns and the identical cards all spoke of a conformity and normalness that physically hurt. Severus gritted his teeth and hurried along the cracked yet spotless sidewalk, paying no mind to the various muggles that were puttering around their perfect yards, just trying to spy on each other than do actual yard work. Most stared, some were subtle and some not, as he walked by. Severus' long purposeful strides took him directly to the fourth house on the street, currently devoid of muggles on lawns. Steeling himself for what promised to be a decidedly unpleasant visit, reminding himself that it would be _very_ short. He marched up the front walkway, ringing the doorbell firmly.

* * *

Boy heard the doorbell and instantly jumped from his spot on a stool in front of the sink where he'd been washing vegetables for dinner and scrambled into his cupboard. That was one of the Rules. It was tied with the Rule of Don't Let People See You. Whenever someone was at the door, Boy was to get into his cupboard from wherever he was as quickly as humanly possible and make absolutely no noise, as if he didn't exist. He closed the door just in time, as Ma'am was making her way downstairs. She passed by his cupboard on the way to the front door. His curiosity, which despite Their best attempts to squander was still strong, caused him to put his ear to the crack, not daring to open the vent.

The door opened and Boy heard the beginning of Ma'am's usual perfectly polite greeting when it was suddenly cut off by a strange chocking sound. Did the person at the door attack Ma'am? He furrowed his brow and tried to listen harder. He heard a faint voice, deep, so probably a man, with a silky-smooth quality to it that gave Boy a mental image of a poison that lulled you to sleep before causing you brain to implode.

"Hello, Petunia. I see you're are doing …well."

The Voice was met with silence. That was odd, Boy thought. Ma'am never missed an opportunity to talk.

"I'm sure whatever you are attempting to get out of that gaping hole you call a mouth is terribly important and riveting for all parties, however, I don't particularly care to listen. I don't want to be here anymore than you do so I will make this brief." The Voice sounded both bored and annoyed. Boy had a feeling that those were the Voice's default state of being. "I was sent by the Headmaster to check in on the boy." Boy perked up. They couldn't possibly be talking about _him_ , could they? No one came to check on him. "Call him over so I can report back to Dumbledore as quickly as possible. You don't even have to pretend to be polite and invite me in for tea." The last line was practically oozing sarcasm.

Apparently, it was enough for Ma'am to find her voice. Her shill voice practically a hiss, obviously not wanting to alert the nosy neighbors that anything was amiss with their visitor.

"What on earth do you think you are doing here?" She demanded. Boy was surprised. She rarely showed this much open hostility to anyone other than him. "I refuse to have any of _your_ kind in my house!"

"Apparently, your listening skills are as defunct as usual. Or is simply your comprehension abilities?" The Voice replied with a disdain Boy could practically _taste_. "I have less desire to enter your home than I do to walk into an Acromantula's nest. I need to report to Albus the state of the boy and believe me, I have just about anything I'd rather be doing, including gouging out my own eyeballs for potion ingredients. Now, produce him so that I can leave."

There was a tense moment of silence. Boy wished he could see what was going on. Finally, Ma'am spoke up. "I wasn't told that _you people_ would be coming to check on us." She said with as much disdain as she could muster, which compared to the Voice, was lacking, although Boy could almost see her sharp nose up in the air.

The Voice sighed. "I don't care. Just produce the boy so I can get on my way, Petunia. I have places to be."

"I find this highly irregular!" She snapped back. "Am I just to expect random visitors to just pop by willy-nilly, forcing me to drop everything to entertain them?'

"I can assure you," The Voice was obviously irritated now. "I doubt you would have the least ability to 'entertain'. The boy, Petunia. _Now_."

Boy flinched at the tone. It was one that demanded respect and immediate obedience. He was tempted to present _himself_ to appease the Voice.

Another tense moment of silence was heard before Ma'am's voice, which was equal parts subdued and defiant said, "He's not here."

"Where is he?" The Voice asked irritably.

"Out. With friends." Ma'am lied. Boy gave her an unseen look through the cupboard door. He wasn't allowed to be _seen_ much less have friends to go 'out' with.

"Then call him back." The Voice seethed.

"There's no way to. You'll just have to come back another time." Boy heard the front door begin to close before it was forcibly stopped. Probably by the Voice.

"No." The Voice hissed, causing Boy to shiver, fear racing down his spine. "I have not come all this way just to be turned aside. I have no desire to come here again and by Merlin I _will_ report to Albus that at the very least, I tried!" The Voice didn't get any louder. If anything, it got softer. And more dangerous. "The boy must come home eventually, for meals if nothing else. I suppose this would be the time you invite me in to be …'entertained'. The Voice sneered, although Boy could hear the Voice forcing his way in regardless of Ma'am, who was no doubt trying to keep him out without making it obvious to the neighbors. The Voice must have won because the door shut but now the Voice was inside and a bit closer to Boy's cupboard.

"I will be sitting in …here." Boy could hear a great many things that were _not_ said in the pause. "I would suggest that you apply yourself to finding the boy quickly. I _do_ have things-" The Voice cut off again, abruptly changing the topic. The Voice sounded both disgusted and horrified when he spoke next. "What is _that_?"

There was a pause before Ma'am replied, confused. "What is what? The pictures?" Sneering disdain entered her own voice. "Surely _you people_ know what _pictures_ are?"

"I wasn't talking about that." His own sneer of disdain was heard that far outclassed Ma'am's. He sounded like a pro. "I was talking about what was _in_ the pictures. I wasn't aware you kept a pig as a pet. Peculiar but not unheard. And strangely fitting." The last sentence was spoken with a hint of amusement.

Boy had to physically clutch his mouth to stop the laughter from being heard. He was saved by Ma'am's own offended spluttering. Boy had the same opinion whenever he had to dust the frames and the mantelpiece where they resided. He'd wondered if he could get an actual pig, dress it up in Dudley's clothing, stick a wig on it, and see how long it would take for Them to notice. If they ever did. The personalities were remarkably similar.

"Enough. I don't care and you are wasting time." The Voice cut in before Ma'am could get her bearings. "Find the boy so I can leave." He spoke with such command that Boy didn't know how anyone could not immediately obey. Boy heard Ma'am huff and march towards the kitchen, slamming the door behind her. Boy flinched back. She sounded mad. And that meant pain. They all liked taking Their frustrations out on him. He gave a tiny sigh before freezing, afraid the Voice might have heard him. When he didn't hear any movement, he relaxed marginally.

He settled down on his mattress. Looks like he had a free afternoon, if the Voice continued to stay. He wasn't allowed out while they had guests over, even unwanted ones like the Voice. Boy found he liked the Voice. Not just the sound of him, which was smooth and silky, but he was funny and didn't let Ma'am push him around at all. Rather, _he_ pushed _Ma'am_ around like it was the most natural thing in the world! He must have been a big man. After all, the bigger you are, the more people you could boss. Boy couldn't boss anyone because he was little. He saw glimpses of kids in the street and knew that most of them were bigger than he was.

He pulled out the broken and half-melted army men that he had been able to rescue from Dudley and the garbage. Content to entertain himself for however long the Voice would be here, he began to imagine armies to back up the green men, waging rescue missions and heroic deeds.

* * *

Lost in the world of death-defying stunts performed by heroes in uniform, Boy didn't realize that he wasn't completely silent. True, no normal person could have heard the barely-there taps of his army men on the wood, or the near-silent rustling of the mattress as he shifted every now and then. But then Severus Snape was not a normal person. No, he was a man that had been through war in the most intimate way possible. He had seen death, caused death, almost died more times to count. He had been in huge battles and small skirmishes and many a solitary duel. And, most notably, he had been a spy for over a year.

And with such experiences under his belt, it was little wonder that his senses, which were always keen, were overly sensitive to the slightest of changes in what was considered normal. Plus, he had long ago developed that sixth sense that allowed him to know, without knowing how he knew, that something was wrong. Or he was in danger. Or there was another presence nearby.

He had gotten the feeling that something was amiss almost immediately. Petunia was never a great liar, he didn't have to be a veteran spy or legillemens to know when Petunia was hiding something. She had obviously tried to get Severus to drop the issue with the boy and leave, which only made him more determined than before. Which seriously sucked because now he was stuck in the most obnoxious, frilly, sterile, _normal_ living room that he had ever had the misfortune to experience. He'd rather be at one of the Dark Lord's meetings. _Those_ were at least devoid of _lace doilies._

When he had entered the room, he noticed the pictures immediately. He would have been the worst spy ever to not have. They were everywhere. But what struck him, aside from the fact that Petunia had apparently birthed an actual pig (he'd always assumed it would have been a horse), was that other that the mustached walrus that was evidently her 'husband', there was no evidence of a second boy. And he meant none. If he didn't know better, he'd assume that only the three Dursley's occupied the house. Which left Severus with a bad feeling.

As he sat on the patterned couch (he was surprised it was wrapped in plastic), pondering the strangeness, he heard it. Petunia was making a racket in the kitchen but it was muffled, allowing his famous ears to pick up the faint but distinct sounds of-

There was either another person in the immediate vicinity, or they had mice. Since Severus figures no mouse would want to get within 50 meters of any of the Dursleys, he assumed it was the former. Furrowing his brow, he concentrated on the sound. Whomever they were, they were making a conscious effort to make as little noise as possible. If Severus had not been …well, _Severus_ , he would have missed it completely.

He cast a silencing charm towards to the kitchen to hear better. Getting up quietly, he stepped slowly towards the sounds. He soon found himself standing in front of a boot cupboard. Crouching down, he listened.

There! The sound of someone breathing, and the rustle of clothes as they moved. Confused more than anything, Severus grabbed the latch and pulled the door open.

* * *

The door to his cupboard was suddenly pulled wide open. Boy jumped back in surprise, clutching his toys in his hands to hide them from view. He blinked at the sudden light, having already gotten used to the darkness of his cupboard. Crouching in front of the cupboard, filling the small doorway, was a dark man.

Not to say that he was dark, physically or spiritually. In fact, he was rather pale, almost unnaturally so. Rather, he wore dark clothing, black mostly, which went with his black hair and black eyes. Which were staring at Boy blankly. Boy stared back, trying not to breathe. His heart was lodged somewhere in his throat.

He had no idea what this man (who was probably the owner of the Voice) wanted but Boy knew only one thing at that moment. He had broken the number one rule. Don't Be Seen.

They were going to kill him.

* * *

Severus stared down at the small creature. His first thought had been to wonder where Petunia had gotten a house-elf. But as he studied the cupboards occupant, who was obviously terrified to have been caught and was sitting perfectly still, curled up in a tiny ball, bright green eyes opened as wide as they could. The – boy, yes it was a child – had a disgusting mop of dark hair that fell haphazardly down his face, covering a fair portion of it. And 'mop' was truly an appropriate likeness since the hair that was obviously unwashed for quite some time, years probably, had begun to clump together in what could almost be considered as dread-locks. He was wearing what looked to be a very old, oversized shirt that fit like a short dress and was so threadbare as to be immodest. Severus couldn't even begin to guess its original color.

The boy had no trousers, his thin legs curled up protectively in front of him, his probably equally thin arms tucked behind them. They looked like little more that sticks. The skin of his feet was scarred and calloused. Judging by the shape, Severus would hazard a guess that this child had never worn shoes before in his life. The rest of the skin, visible to Severus from the light filtering around him to illuminate the dismal scene before him, at first glance looked to be tan, but he could tell that it was not the sun that had darkened the skin, but years of unwashed filth that had seeped into the pores and stained the very pigments.

And the smell. Severus' admittedly large nose was as average as the next at smelling, but he didn't need it to smell the very poignant stench of unwashed body, and sickness, and stale bodily fluids. He didn't bother looking at the rest of the cupboard. It was obvious that this boy was not just hiding in here. This was his _room_.

His mood and thoughts (and eyes although he wasn't consciously aware of it) became noticeably darker as he simply squatted there, absorbing all the visible information available. The terrified eyes, the obvious abuse and neglect, the bruises…

Oh yes, Severus could see the distinct bruises that littered the boy's legs. There were a fair number of scars from who-knows-what as well. It took all he had to remain in control. A lifetime of practicing said control, and several years in a war where losing control meant death, helped.

But not by much.

Severus drew a deep breath. Through his mouth so that he wouldn't gag from the stench. Merlin, that really wasn't helping. He could _taste_ it.

He closed his eyes, making sure his occlumency barriers were erect and unshakeable. Once he was convinced of their stability, he opened his eyes to look at the boy. Who hadn't moved a muscle. Was he breathing? Yes, there was a slight movement as his chest expanded and deflated. Probably a _tad_ too fast to be calm breathing but Severus really couldn't blame him.

Schooling his face in a completely neutral expression that belied nothing, he spoke softly. "Hello, little one. My name is Severus Snape. I've been sent to get you." Well, to check up on him more than anything. Really, this was just supposed to be a routine visit, make sure the boy hadn't been attacked by rogue Death Eaters and then be home before his cauldron completely cooled down. _Those_ plans were shot. Severus couldn't leave him here even one second longer. This really was all Albus' fault.

* * *

"Hello, little one. My name is Severus Snape. I've been sent to get you." Boy didn't know what to make of that. 'Get him'? 'Sent'? Who sent him? Was he taking Boy away from here? Boy quickly moved away from that line of thinking. Best not get hopes up for unreasonable expectations. Ma'am obviously didn't send him. Probably not Sir, either, otherwise Ma'am wouldn't have been so rude to him. And would have called Boy out immediately. But no one else knew about Boy. Right? Or was there someone else that knew about Boy, knew about his life and what he endured and was taking him away?

No, bad Boy, don't get your hopes up. Nothing good ever happens to you.

While he was mentally berating himself, he almost missed the hand that reached in towards him. Seeing movement without registering what it was, Boy flinched back, trying to curl up smaller. The hand stilled but didn't withdraw. It was palm up, fingers slightly extended. Boy knew that sign. That meant, 'Give Me What You Have Now.' All he had was his little green men. Saddened by the loss but trying not to show it, he slowly brought his own hands out and dropped the toys in the outstretched palm before yanking them back quickly. Sometimes the hand would snatch at Boy when he was giving over whatever item he had, and pull him closer. To hit him easier without having to reach.

His green eyes dropped, depressed to have his only toys taken away. He'd been so good about hiding them from Them, too. He'd had them for years now. He watched as the hand withdrew and the man – Snape he had said – looked at the toys, his face giving away nothing.

* * *

Severus was confused. Why did he give him his toys? These were obviously ones that had been rescued from probably the garbage. They were horribly deformed, probably the after effects of exposure to high temperatures. Most likely an open flame. Signs of a budding sociopath in Severus' opinion. He didn't think this was a gesture of good-will from the boy. Ah, Severus realized. He misinterpreted my body language. Most likely from never having been offered a helping hand before. Resisting the urge to sigh in anger and sadness, he shook his head and held out the hand with the deformed toys to the boy again, this time with verbal clarification.

"I don't want your toys, child." He kept his voice low and calm, like speaking to a frightened animal. Severus found small children and animals had more in common that people liked to admit. "You may keep them. They are yours." The boy's eyes which had been downcast in frustrated depression, suddenly snapped up to look at him, wary confusion in place. Severus resisted the urge to jerk back. Those eyes were like staring into a soul. He had never seen such innocence. Granted, his experience with children began at the age of 11 on up. Still, there was almost a magical quality to the eyes.

The boy didn't take back to the toys right away. He looked from the man's face to the still outstretched palm then back again. He was obviously calculating the likelihood that it was a trick, suspicious that Severus meant harm of some kind. Severus was feeling very peculiar feelings in his heart, like little pin-pricks. And anger. Mostly anger. He kept _that_ on a very tight leash.

"Go on, boy. Take them." Slowly, cautiously, obviously waiting for some sign that showed Severus' ill will. Then, quick as a striking snake, the boy snatched the toys back and pressed himself further into the wall, clutching his prize in his hands. His wide, green eyes stared at the older man, waiting for his reaction.

Realizing that he would have to take this much slower than he first realized (and squashing the mounting anger), Severus slowly withdrew his hand, not wanting to make any sudden movements that would startle the boy.

"I wanted to speak with you, little one." His voice as calm as possible. Honestly, he should get a freakin' medal for acting. He was positive he'd been hit with a blood-boiling curse. "Will you come out?" The boy was looking down at the returned toys with an unreadable expression. Slowly, he looked up into Severus' eyes.

Going by instinct, Severus stood up, knees protesting their extended period of stress, and took a step back. For almost a full minute, he simply waited, inwardly doubting himself but outwardly keeping up his calm façade.

He was rewarded. A thin, almost skeletal hand reached out, gripping the framework. In the light, the sheer layer of filth was even more pronounced. He wasn't sure how they managed to keep the smell contained. Slowly, with eyes never leaving the older man, the child emerged from his 'room', standing pressed against the wall as if to distance himself, just in case. Severus made no attempt to get closer.

He nodded solemnly. "Thank you for your consideration." Green eyes widened in shock. Probably for being thanked. Taking a deep breath, he decided to just dive right in. "My name is Severus Snape. I am a professor at a prestigious boarding school. It is the same school your own parents attended. You have been enrolled practically since birth. I was sent by the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, to check on you." He paused, gaging the boy's expression. Stunned shock was the only emotion visible. Unsure exactly where to go from here, He decided to just wing it. "Due to the nature of your… living condition, I have made an executive decision." Severus wondered why he was being so completely honest. Probably to hear himself think out loud more than anything. "I have decided that the Dursleys," He tried and failed to keep his anger from his tone when he spoke _their_ name, "are not fit guardians and therefore you will be immediately removed from their home. You will most likely be staying with me since I can't really think of a place right now while I confer with Headmaster Dumbledore to make a more permanent solution. Is that agreeable?"

He took a steadying breath as he waited for an answer. He sincerely hoped the child wouldn't make any kind of fuss. He didn't really have a choice in the matter, but it would save Severus a _lot_ of hassle and headache if he were more amenable. The child was still staring at him, the shock slowly fading as he processed everything. Finally, with such a cautious hope in his far-too-green-to-be-normal eyes that it hurt Severus to look at them, the boy nodded his head. Once.

Severus felt a relief wash through him that he was instantly annoyed with. Drawing himself up, he nodded back curtly. "Right." He said. "Well, get whatever things you have together. I will inform Petunia of the changed circumstances." His eyes darkened with a sadistic glee at the thought of his upcoming 'talk' with Petunia. The boy visibly brightened (but didn't smile which Severus thought odd).

The older man turned on his heel and marched into the kitchen and dining area, not looking to see if the boy had followed his orders. The silencing charm was still on the doorway so when Severus threw open the door, Petunia was taken by complete surprise and gave a screech, almost dropping the handset she'd been using. Before registering who it was, she looked like she was about to start to yell at the interruption. But then she saw the cold fury in Severus' eyes and promptly shut her mouth with an audible 'click'. The door closed behind him, still charmed silent.

"Hang up the phone, Petunia." He spoke softly, using a tone that any of his students knew meant DANGER. "We need to have a quick _chat_." That single word seemed to convey so much.

* * *

Boy wasn't sure to whether to believe the man – _Snape_ he had said – but if it _was_ true, then he wasn't about to be left behind because he wasn't ready when the man left. Everything in him screamed that it was just a ploy, another sick joke like the ones that They would play on him. Get his hopes up that something good would happen only for something far worse to happen. Chances are, the man would be a hundred times worse than Them, that he would beat him every day and tie him up outside like a dog and do horrible things to him. Probably.

Boy collected his meager items – a single change of shirt, just as threadbare and dirty as the one he was currently wearing, his handful of broken toys that he'd nicked from the bin, and his two drawings with his three crayon nubs, found and saved during his chores – and tied them up with his 'blanket'. It was just a child's size sheet that used to be Dudley's. Ma'am had chucked it years ago and since Boy's own sheet had been worn to the point of being nothing more than rags, he'd nicked that too.

He wasn't sure what to do about his food supply. Deciding that he was better safe than sorry, he wrapped the bag carefully in his other shirt before adding it to his other belongings. Nothing except the tiny mattress he'd slept on was left of Boy's time in the cupboard. He wasn't sure whether he'd get to leave or not but if he did, he might be a little sad to never see the cupboard again. It had always been _his_. A safe place, one that none of Them could fit in so They had always left him alone when he'd been in it.

He exited the cupboard, closing the door carefully for the last time. Maybe. He stood next to it, as still as he could. He didn't want the man to get angry at him for fidgeting while he waited. He knew Their pressure points, what got Them angry or annoyed, what prompted cuffs on the head or beatings or more chores. The man was a new element. And boy knew he should be scared, new that there would be growing pains and that he'd push buttons he wasn't aware for a while before he figured the man out, knew he should be scared and rethinking his desire to leave – but he could feel the thrum of _something_ , something within him that seemed to be urging him to go with the man, listen to the silky voice, _trust Severus Snape_ –

The kitchen door opened with a bang, causing Boy to flinch before he could stop himself. The force of it caused the door to swing shut behind the man as he swept out of the kitchen. Boy could almost see a long black cape billow out behind the man, appearing like some vampire lord. It was strangely fitting. Boy hadn't heard anything from the kitchen when the man had entered, but hadn't thought anything of it. The man seemed more likely to whisper poisoned barbs at a person when angry, rather than Sir's purple-faced shouting.

The man stopped in front of Boy and looked down at him, his expression unreadable. Boy carefully kept his own eyes lowered, knowing that They didn't like it when he stared at Them, and assumed that he was safer assuming the same the Snape.

"Is that everything that you wish to bring? We won't be coming back." The man's tone was as blank as his face. It gave away nothing and made Boy unconsciously shiver at not knowing whether he was in a good mood or not. Boy quickly nodded, being sure to not look directly at the man.

There was a few seconds silence before the man gave a terse "Very well," and swept towards the front door. He paused before opening it. Turning back towards Boy – who had followed at the safe distance of about a meter – he suddenly reached into his coat and pulled out a stick. Boy flinched again. Would the man start the beatings now? How safe was he if he carried a stick around, as if just waiting to smack any disobedient boys?

The man pointed it at Boy who kept deathly still, afraid to even breath. Then suddenly Boy was covered in a long coat, one that reached his ankles. It was so warm and soft, like the towels fresh from the dryer. The man lowered the stick to his bare feet and as suddenly as the coat had appeared, shoes appeared on his feet. Boy marveled at both, never having worn shoes before nor a coat. The man tucked the magic stick back in his own coat.

"That will have to do until we get you some proper clothes. Though first we'll have to clean you up. You are long overdue for a bath. Come." He gestured towards the stunned boy and opened the door. Boy practically ran after the man, the cupboard, Them, and his entire life at Number 4, Privet Drive already forgotten in the wake of the dark man and his magic coat-and-shoe-giving stick.


	2. Chapter 2

The child stumbled when they apparated, clearly not expecting the disconcerting feeling of being squeezed through a tube. To Severus, it was normal, a lifetime of apparating making the discomfort almost nonexistent. To the child unconsciously clinging to his arm as he took deep breaths, it was highly unpleasant.

But now, they stood in the small entry way of his house on Spinner's End, unchanged from the half an hour he'd left it. Had it really only been 30 minutes? Severus wondered mildly. A lot can happen in just 30 minutes apparently. The boy, realizing that he'd been clinging to Severus, quickly released him and took a step away. The professor took no offense. He'd dealt with many an abuse case, though arguably, none as bad as this one. He knew that the child would not be comfortable in close proximity with adults. And him. People were rarely comfortable near of him. Which was how he preferred it.

He strode through the narrow hallway into the small and dingy living room. He wasn't one for entertaining guests and spent almost 10 months out of the year at Hogwarts so the house in general had a cold, un-lived-in feeling. The child had followed him silently without prompting, always the same distance from him. He gestured towards the sagging couch.

"Sit. I need to change out of this muggle clothing. Then we will discuss what will happen." He strode out of the room with his usual grace, not looking back to see if the child had done as he'd said.

Boy stood frozen on the spot when the man – _Snape_ – swept out of the room. He was at a loss. The man had given him an order, to sit. Normally, he'd obey without hesitating, sitting being a comfort They rarely allowed him. But the man had gestured to the couch when he'd ordered him. And that broke one of the Rules: Don't Sit On The Furniture. They insisted that the furniture was for normal people and besides, he was much too dirty to sit on Ma'am's almost sterile furniture.

So now, he would either break the Rule of Always Obey or the Rule of Don't Sit On The Furniture and he wasn't sure which one the man would be angrier with. Sometimes They did this too, give him an order that made him break a Rule. Sometimes it was accidental, since They couldn't remember the Rules as well as he did, and sometimes it was on purpose, so that either way they would have an excuse to punish him.

Making a quick Pro-Con list of obeying each Rule, he decided to stick to the Rule of Always Obey. That one was usually the safest one to follow and the man _had_ gestured to the couch, like he had expected Boy to sit there. Taking a deep steadying breath, Boy perched gingerly on the edge of his seat, his entire body tense. He'd know if he had made the right choice when the man came back.

Severus took the time changing back into his comfortable wizarding robes to steady himself, pulling his Occlumency shields around his mind and emotions more firmly. His _chat_ with Petunia hadn't allowed him to fully vent. Going to Azkaban would have been counter-productive after-all. And the child downstairs needed him. Or someone. He'd have to contact Dumbledore immediately but he felt himself hesitating.

Not wanting to analyze the reasons for his hesitancy, he decided that he'd contact him after he made the boy more presentable. Get him some food, proper clothing, a _bath_ …

Nodding at his plan, he straightened his robes and went back downstairs to the child waiting for him.

The boy was sitting on the couch like he'd said, but looked extremely tense and uncomfortable. Severus frowned mentally. Using the same calm hopefully soothing voice that he'd used when coaxing the child out of the cupboard, he spoke.

"Little One." For some reason, he couldn't think about the boy's real name. Like, admitting exactly who he was would make it that much worse. The child sprang from his seat, his bright green eyes wide. He glanced at Severus before turning his eyes down, submissive. It rankled at Severus. His parents had been anything _but_ submissive.

"Little One, you are safe. It is okay." He assured. It got no response, but Severus knew that everything he got would be an uphill battle. "This is my home. I grew up here." He had no idea why he was telling the child that. It wasn't necessary. Slowly and carefully, he walked into the room and sat in his armchair by the unlit fire. "Please, sit back down. We have much to discuss."

The boy sat with some trepidation. Severus mentally sighed. When the child was as comfortable as he was going to allow himself to be – which wasn't comfortable at all – Severus started speaking.

"As I stated before, my name is Severus Snape. I am a Professor. You may call me 'Professor', 'Sir', 'Professor Snape', or if you would like more familiarity, you may call me 'Severus'. You will not get in trouble for any of those titles." The boy blinked, not quite looking at his face but facing him at least. "Right now, I am on summer holidays. The school I work is a boarding school, starting in September. If you are allowed to stay here that long, we will re-address our living situation." Severus noted the child's tension when he mentioned this. Was he afraid to leave? "I am not legally responsible for you but I did make a somewhat …hasty decision when I discovered your living situation." He frowned at himself as he started to realize the full implications of what he did. He truly wasn't that rash, normally. Odd. "I will be taking care of you for as long as you are staying here, be that a day, a month, or even years. This place is _safe_." He knew it would take the boy a long time before he even remotely started to believe that, but he felt several reminders wouldn't hurt.

"I will never hit you. Ever." He quickly squashed the fleeting memories of his own father. "If I feel like your behavior warrants punishment, it will be through extra chores or loss of privileges, or maybe standing in a corner or something." He waved a hand in dismissal. With how still the child was being, as if he'd been hit with a full-body bind, he doubted he'd have to punish him any time soon if ever.

"There is much to do and say but there are a few things that must be taken care of first. I must get a full diagnostic of you both to know how best to heal you and for records sake." So that the Dursley's wouldn't get away with what they did. "It will not be painful or intrusive in anyway. In fact, will take but a moment." He reached into his robes and withdrew his wand, holding it sideways in a non-threatening manner. He finally got a reaction from the child. The bright green eyes had locked on to the wand, wide and almost enviously. A small hand unconsciously stroked the coat Severus had conjured for him. He suppressed a smirk. Introducing him to magic shouldn't be so hard after all.

"This, Child, is a wand. All witches and wizards have one. It allows us to channel our inner magic to preform spells and charms and the like. Such as when I conjured that coat or those shoes you now where." The boy looked down at what he was wearing, as if assuring himself they were still there. "Magic is real." Severus reiterated, in case it wasn't obvious to the boy. He frowned, however, when he saw the boy flinch at those words. He brushed it off for now. Plenty of time to figure out all of the child's ticks later.

"After I run the diagnostic, I will see what needs to be done next. It is nearing lunch time so that might be first unless you have more pressing health issues that I can see." He cast his dark gaze up and down the boy, taking in the obvious malnutrition and bruising, doing his best to ignore the sanity issues.

"To run the diagnostic, I need you to simply stand in front of me for a moment. I will run my wand over you to cast a detection spell. It will take a bit as I will be cataloguing any and all health issues, including your past health problems, such as broken bones and old sicknesses. Come." He beckoned the boy forward. He figured the child would be more comfortable being the one standing. Severus knew from experience that having an adult loom over you, even for good reasons, was daunting to abused children.

The child immediately rose and stood in front of Severus, still holding the soft bundle that probably held all his earthly possessions. He lifted his wand, ignoring the flinch he got in response, though the child kept his eyes down. He waved his wand in practiced movements for several moments, silently casting the spells. Finished, Severus flicked his wand, a scroll of parchment appearing from the tip. He caught it, putting his wand back in his robes.

I'm finished, Child. You may sit back down." Again, his words were followed promptly and silently. Severus made a mental note to be careful with what he said, as he doubted sarcasm would be taken well. Even casual comments would probably be taken literally. He opened the scroll, and read through it quickly.

It was a good thing he was used to keeping a neutral expression. The fury that had abated somewhat when he left the Dursley's was mounting with each word he read. _Azkaban_ was too good for them. He took a deep calming breath when he finished. There was a multitude of things to think about and do, but nothing life-threatening. But the boy needed _food_. He'd probably be taking a Nutritional Potion for a full year with every mean _at minimum._ It wasn't a potion that he kept at hand but it was simple enough to make and he did have all the necessary ingredients. He'd get started while the boy ate.

He rolled the parchment back up and looked at the child still sitting as though balancing on a seat full of tacks. "There are several potions that I will need to put you on, as you are lacking many essential vitamins and minerals. I have a few on hand but need to make more. I will begin making them while you eat lunch. They will be ready by the time you go to bed so you may take them then. After lunch, we will work on getting you _clean_. I don't think simple soap and water will be enough." He gave another cursory glance at the child, lingering on the hair. Chances are, he'd have to shave off the whole thing.

"Follow me." He stood and made his way to the small kitchen. He'd have to be careful about what to feed the child. Based on the diagnostic, he wouldn't be able to handle much. Severus figured a simple broth would start. He'd add a vitamin supplement to get started on countering the extreme malnutrition.

With efficient movements, he pulled out the pot and the can, opening it with his well-used can-opener. Most meals were either take-out or in a can when Severus was home. Cooking for one was rarely worth it. Letting the broth heat, he turned to get the supplement from his potions lab when he saw the child standing awkwardly against the wall.

"Sit down." He said with a raised brow, pointing to one of the kitchen chairs. There were only two. Would he have to tell the boy to sit every time? _That_ would get old fast. When the boy sat, he quickly got the correct vial from his lab, adding it to the pot. Since all he was doing was heating broth, it was done in a few minutes. He ladled a bowl full, bringing it over with a spoon.

Setting it in front of the child, he said, "We will start with this since your body is not used to food. If you feel like you can eat more, there is some in the pot. Careful when getting some, it is hot. Eat only till you are full. If you stuff yourself, you are more likely to throw it all back up." He warned. The child was staring at the steaming bowl, hunger obvious on his face.

"Eat up." Severus said. "I'll be back in a few."

* * *

When he came back 15 minutes later, getting several potions started, the bowl and pot were both empty. And washed. And the child was in the process of drying them. _Well, at least he won't be messy_ , Severus thought grimly. He knew it wasn't natural for a child to immediately clean up like that. The boy flinched slightly when Severus came in, freezing his movements. He looked at him with wide eyes, still not looking directly into his face. Severus squashed his annoyance at that, reminding himself that it was probably a habit ingrained from his time at the Dursley's.

"You can leave that to air dry. It's time to get you cleaned up." The boy carefully set the pot down along with the towel, following behind Severus as they made their way upstairs. There was only one bath in the house, and a small one at that. Severus pulled aside the curtain and turned on the showerhead, testing the temperature.

"I want to put you under running water first to get most of the grime off." Severus explained to the boy, who stood silently in the doorway. "Otherwise the bathwater will get too dirty to be of any real use." He gazed at the boy. He hadn't said a single word yet or offered any kind of complaint. "I don't think I have anything to really clean your hair." He said cautiously, looking for any sign of hesitance. "The best thing for it would simple be to shave it off and then let it grow back." He paused to see if he would offer any complaint. The boy simply blinked.

 _At least he's not fighting me._ Severus grumbled. The silence would have been more than welcome with any of his own students, but on this boy, it spoke of his dark past. Letting the water warm up, Severus beckoned the boy to enter the small bathroom. "Turn to face the mirror so you can see what I'm doing." He instructed. The boy complied. He pulled out his wand and murmuring softly, ran it over the boy's head.

Like some kind of disease, great clumps of matted hair fell off. Severus saw the child's eyebrows rise in surprise. It was probably a disconcerting feeling but Severus had wanted the boy to watch him so that he wouldn't be afraid of Severus doing anything behind him. Severus knew that he'd always had a problem with people standing behind him, something that had carried through to his adulthood. It had probably heightened during the war, to be honest.

He waved his wand at the hair on the floor, vanishing it. The boy looked odd bald, his scalp the palest part of him, though not without a few old scabs and scars. Speaking of, the infamous scar on his forehead was now very visible, still red, as though it had been a recent addition. Severus would have thought it odd, but cursed scars were strange like that. He could see the child examining his own reflection, probably not something he did a lot of.

When green eyes met black ones, the child quickly looked down, hunching over slightly. Severus repressed another sigh. "Get undressed and in the shower. I'll bring special soap." He turned and left, leaving the door open.

The boy was technically 8-years-old, but Severus wasn't sure how independent he was. He would have said 'very independent' as he probably took care of himself 99% of the time, but obviously hygiene wasn't a part of that. Chances are, he'd probably have to help the boy scrub himself clean. And the 'soap' he was getting wasn't one that he would leave in the hands of any child. It was a weaker version of the soap he used on his cauldrons. Technically safe, if it wasn't swallowed or put in any eyes. But it was extra strong compared to most regular body soaps and shouldn't be left to sit on bare skin for too long. Hence the shower first.

When he came back to the bathroom, he was surprised to see that the boy hadn't gotten in yet. Both of his skinny arms were under the running water and he had undressed, the clothes neatly folded on the toilet lid, the shoes set uniformly next to them.

"Is it too hot?" He asked, curious. It was the first 'command' that the boy hadn't immediately followed. The child jumped and spun around, almost falling backward as he hit his heel against the side of the tub. He swung his arms in an attempt to keep his balance. On instinct, Severus reached out to steady him, but the on-coming hand caused the boy to reflexively flinch away. This caused him to lose what little balance he had and before Severus could stop it, the boy tripped over the edge of the tub and crashed into it, a great jumble of too skinny limbs.

Severus winced when he landed, knowing that there were a few bruises added to his collection. The boy lay dazed at the bottom of the tub, the showerhead continuing to spray hot water on him. Severus raised his brow. "Are you alright?" He asked in a steady voice. The child blinked up at him, seemingly not fazed by his own nudity in the presence of a grown man.

Slowly, making sure the child could see his every movement, Severus reached down, ignoring the reflexive flinch and the water that sprayed on his clothed arms, and gently helped the boy up. He could see the dirty water going down the drain and was assured that his plan for a shower first was a good one. A cursory examination assured the Professor that although it might have hurt and bruises might follow, there was no immediate health care needed.

"I brought the soap." Severus picked up the bottle that he had dropped when the boy had fallen. "You have two choices here." He turned back towards the child, who stood under the water, no real expression on his face but one hand upturned to feel the water more clearly. Obviously, the child was enjoying the shower. He even seemed more relaxed, which Severus thought odd since he was completely naked and doing nothing to hide himself. Maybe he was just too young to care.

"This soap is very strong but I believe it to be necessary. It is safe to use topically – on skin – but it _is_ strong, and I need to be here to ensure that it doesn't get in your eyes or anything." The boy blinked, looking at the bottle still clutched in his hands. "So, you can wash yourself, while I simply stand here, for safety's sake, or, if you'd like, I could assist you in the washing so you don't have to worry. Which would you prefer?" He waited – _not on baited breath_ – for the boy to respond. Severus was a little worried that the child didn't know _how_ to speak.

"The second, Sir." The voice was so quiet, Severus wasn't sure he'd heard it at first. He felt odd when he heard the child. His voice was just that, a child's. It was soft and quiet, not quite a whisper but close. The boy didn't look up or make any sort of movement or expression when he spoke, which was what cause Severus' skepticism at first. When he heard him, he was both elated and relieved. Both emotions were ridiculous and Severus quickly brushed them aside. He also ignored the slight tingly feeling in his chest at the child's choice.

Washing someone was a very intimate act, so Severus was surprised at the boy's choice. He thought for sure the child would want Severus to be as far away as possible. Putting on his professional mask, Severus shrugged off his outer robe and unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling up his sleeves. He picked up one of the wash cloths he'd brought and wet it thoroughly. He kept all his movements visible and efficient. He took a large towel and set it on the side of the tub so he could sit down. Gesturing to the boy to come closer, Severus started to wipe the outer layer of filth from the child's body.

He was silent as he worked, as gentle as he could be in deference to the child's many scabs and sores, but firm enough to be useful. He could feel the child's slight shaking, no doubt with being so close to an adult in such a vulnerable way. He tried to be gentle as he prodded and directed the boy to turn or lift an arm or whatnot. The boy responded, equally silent. When he wiped his face, Severus was struck by how young he really looked. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself, or the depth of his eyes, or maybe it was just the almost visible burden of his past years, but Severus has unconsciously added years to the child. But now, trembling slightly and thoroughly soaked, trusting an almost complete stranger, Severus could see that the child was just that – a child.

When he finished his first rub down, the boy was already several shades lighter. His skin was so much paler that he'd realized, paler than his own. Severus doubted he'd spent much time in the sun, if any. He took out the soap and a new wash cloth – the first unspeakable dirty – and started the process again. He saved the face for last, knowing it was the most delicate part of this. He could see that every time the soap was rubbed into a sore or tender cut, the boy suppressed flinches of pain, never crying out. Finishing, he instructed the child to thoroughly rinse his body for any bits of soap not washed off, especially his cuts and sores.

Severus could now see that the child was almost bone white. Time outside would do him a world of good. He collected the used wash cloths and the bottle, mentally remarking on the odd feeling now that the boy was clean. It was like the difference of buying a potion already brewed from the shop versus brewing one yourself from scratch. Not knowing exactly how to label the feeling, Severus set aside the dirty laundry, the child's t-shirt and coat included, and turned back towards the boy.

He was standing under the warm water, his eyes closed. Severus could see the ghost of a contented smile on the boy's face and wondered at the youthful appearance he'd taken. He was still bruised and scarred, all skin and bones, and impossibly pale, and bald, but he looked for all the world like a small child enjoying bath time.

Speaking of –

"I'm going to start your bath now. You are mostly clean but a good soak can't hurt." The boy's eyes – those bright green eyes – popped open and the child gazed up at Severus with something that might have been excitement if you looked hard enough. He still didn't look directly into Severus' eyes though. Progress. Maybe.

Severus plugged the drain and turned off the showerhead, letting the bathtub fill. The child immediately sat cross-legged in the slowly rising water, looking just like any other child excited for a bath. Severus wasn't sure what possessed him to do it, he would later claim that the boy needed all the soap possible, but he drew his wand and with a quick silent spell, suddenly bubbles, large and slightly pink, were rising along with the water.

The child gave a soft sound of exclamation, staring wide-eyed at the bubbles. With a tentative hand, he reached and prodded them. He gave a sharp gasp at confirming their reality, and snapped his head up to look at Severus. In the eyes.

Severus was a little startled to see those green eyes practically boring into his own dark ones. He was _very_ startled to see the depth of emotion in them. Jerking himself out of a trance, he cleared his throat and muttered, "Be sure to turn off the water before it overflows. When the water reaches about here." He tapped one of his long fingers at a point a few inches below the top of the tub. Not waiting for a response, since he probably wouldn't get one, he spun around, grabbing the laundry and extra-strength soap, and marched out of the bathroom.

* * *

He was not indulging the child's obvious desire to spend as much time as possible in the _bubble_ bath. He just had a lot of things to do and not having to worry about where the boy was, was convenient. Honest.

He scowled as he stirred the potion, this one a bone-strengthening one. Trying to repair all the damage that had been inflicted on the child would call for several potions, every day, for quite some time. That boy was lucky he was a potions master. He turned towards another softly-simmering potion, this one to act like a mouthwash to counter the gum disease and tooth-decay. Before he forgot, he noted on a parchment nearby to get the boy his own toothbrush and toothpaste.

On the parchment was a long list of items that the child was lacking and had to be bought. All manner of clothes being on the top, followed quickly by shoes. A reminder to set up an eye appointment since the diagnostic revealed a high level of near-sightedness. Children's shampoo and soap for future bath times when the boy's hair grew back. A few towels as well since Severus only had the bare minimum of his own, which were all being used for the child today. Bedding, since Severus again didn't have any to spare and conjured items eventually faded.

Chances are, the boy didn't have any reading or writing skills. He doubted that the Dursley's had let the boy go to school. Not in the state he was in. So, a note to check on his literacy skills to determine what level home-study books and supplies would be needed.

And then, Severus hesitated. He didn't want to go and spoil the child, lavish him with toys and treats and such. But the boy needed some kind of stimulation and Severus was a busy man. So, a note to look into appropriate toys to keep him occupied when not studying, preferably a few that would keep him outside because he was in desperate need of some sun.

He assured himself that it wasn't just because he _felt_ bad that the only toys the boy had was a couple of broken and misshapen army men. And apparently a few crayon stubs, since, admittedly and unashamedly, Severus had opened the small bundle that the child had brought with him. It would have been enough to make a dragon cry. The two drawings had been telling as well, even only being three colors, the child had drawn himself in between two adult figures, obviously to represent his own lost parents, and a building that looked suspiciously like a school, with the boy surrounded by many other small figures, representing what was probably friends.

That was another matter of consternation for the potions professor. Never having children or any interest in them, he wasn't sure how to go about improving the boy's social life. He knew such things were important to grow up healthy, but his own ignorance coupled with what was assuredly a shy and abused boy, hinted at a possible lonely future. He'd have to look into that.

As he mechanically worked on the potions, lost in thought, he made sure to avoid thinking about the fact that he would have to report back to Dumbledore. Like, soon. He really should have sent a report immediately, but something stayed his hand. His own reluctance surprised him, but he couldn't find it in him to floo-call the headmaster. Or send a Patronus. Or even owl him. He assured himself that making sure the child had the appropriate potions was more important and since he'd be called to make them anyway, he'd just save himself time and effort by keeping the boy close.

Yeah, that's why.

One potion finished, he ladled it into small vials, the appropriate size for a single-serving, leaving the other potions to simmer or boil or what-have you. Not able to think of any more excuses, and since he'd left the child in bath for about an hour now, he drew himself up and made his way back to the bathroom.

He could hear the small splashing and swishing of water, so figured that the boy must have stayed in the entire time. He expected that but was still somewhat surprised when he saw just how content and – dare he say it – _happy_ the child was. Most of the bubbles were gone by now, and he could see the pruney fingers as the child continued to play with the few that were left. Severus watched as, every so often, the child plugged his nose and dunked himself underwater, moving slightly in some imaginary game only he knew. When he came back up, Severus decided to announce himself by stepping into the bathroom, a large towel in one hand.

"Come, child. It's time to get out of the bath." He said, ignoring the twinge in his chest as he saw the boy's countenance fall in sorrow. But he didn't dawdle, standing up, shivering slightly as the cool air swept over his wet frame. Severus directed him to pull the plug, since he didn't want to stick his own arm in the water, and then helped him out so he wouldn't slip and fall. The boy let him assist, only a slight tensing and reflexive twitch giving away any apprehension at his own proximity.

Severus helped dry the boy carefully, then wrapped him up in the towel that covered him as much as the transfigured coat had, and led him out. His own bedroom was the closest, so he went in there, sitting himself on the edge of his bed. The boy stood before him, damp still, and shivering slightly. Those green eyes flickered over to a pile of folded clothes, newly transfigured pants and robes to fit the child's small frame, a jar of salve resting on top.

"I made you some clothes for now, but we will have to go shopping for a more permanent wardrobe. Transfigured clothing doesn't last near as long as real clothing but it will do in a pinch." Severus needlessly explained. "I decided on robes instead of muggle clothing since it's easier to transfigure. It's a bit like wearing a bathrobe during the day at first," He offered, thinking back to Lily's own metaphor when she started wearing them. "But you get used to it. But first," He grabbed the jar and opened it, revealing the creamy off-white paste inside. "This is a simple healing salve. I need to put it one all your open sores and cuts. It cleans as well as heals to better prevent infection. It also speeds up healing on bruises and the like. It is cold but will seep into your skin quickly enough that you can get dressed as soon as I am done without worrying about smearing." He beckoned and the child stepped closer, lowering his cape-like towel to grant Severus access.

The child watched as the salve was gently rubbed over every sore, cut, scab, and bruise that littered his skin. Which was pretty much all of him. He flinched a few times, when the cold took him by surprise, but it quickly sank into his skin, tingling slightly with the warmth of magic at work. His green eyes widened in surprise and a soft gasp escaped his lips as bruises faded and cuts sealed over.

Severus had to kneel on the floor to apply a liberal amount on the boy's feet, severally scarred from abuse of all kinds. Unfortunately, the salve didn't get rid of old scars, so the marks on his feet and back – where Severus did his best not to think about the reason behind the almost whip-like scars crisscrossing the skin – didn't fade away like the rest of the injuries.

He finished by applying a little extra on the lightening-shaped scar on his forehead, not truly believing it would get rid of it at all, but Severus wasn't sure if it pained the boy at all like some curse scars and didn't want to take the chance. Finished, he screwed the lid back on the jar and held out the child-sized underwear he'd conjured.

The boy didn't realize he was being offered clothing at first, still distracted by his almost unblemished arms, but gently took them when he looked up. Then hesitated.

He looked down at the underwear, then glanced over at Severus' clothes, not seeing anything similar. He fiddled with it tentatively, not sure which way was up.

Severus couldn't even begin to explain away the breaking of his heart when he realized that the boy didn't know how to wear the article because he'd never been given _pants_ before.

He took a breath to steady his emotions, before reaching out gently, and took the clothing back. The boy relinquished them without fuss, letting his arms and head drop. Severus held them up the right way and lowered them so the boy could step into them without straining himself.

"Take one of your feet and step through one of the holes." He explained "You may hold on to my shoulders for balance if you need to." The boy jolted in surprise before hesitatingly doing as instructed, the barest touch on Severus' shoulders, like a butterfly, allowing him to balance as he stepped into them. Catching on quickly, he stepped into the other hole and Severus pulled them up.

Not offering the robes for the boy to figure out on his own, Severus took them, instructing the child to raise his arms before sliding the soft material over the skinny frame. He had made the robes just a touch too long, but a simple flick of his wand sorted that out. The robes were a dark forest green, which Severus pretended had to do with his own house affiliation and nothing to do with the boy's bright eyes. The child ran his hands almost lovingly over the warm material. It was a short-sleeved robe, similar in style to ones that Severus had seen in passing when getting his own.

"I have a few potions to get you started on, a simple mouthwash potion to start counteracting the gum disease and obvious cavities, and then a simple nutrient potion. The other potions aren't ready yet but we can start with those." He stood and walked downstairs to his lab, the child following behind at the same distance as he always did. He got the two vials and led the boy over to the sink in his lab.

He uncorked the first vial, the mouthwash, and handed it to the boy. "Don't swallow this one. Simply wash it around you mouth for 30 seconds and spit it out in the sink. I'll let you know when." The boy emptied the vial and then flinched as the tingle of the mouthwash attacking his gums and teeth started. Obediently, he swished it around and around, while Severus counted mentally. "Now." He said when the 30 seconds were up. Immediately, the boy spat out the mouthwash, a slight scrunch-up of his features the only sign of his displeasure. Severus knew from experience that the taste and feeling were unpleasant.

He gave him a cup of water telling him to rinse out his mouth a few times before swallowing any, then made sure he drank almost a full cup. The boy was dehydrated and while there was a potion that helped counter-act the worse of the symptoms, the best cure was to ensure that the boy drank plenty of water.

He handed him the nutrient potion afterwards and was surprised yet unsurprised when the boy drank it without making his displeasure of the taste obvious. It had always tasted like pureed broccoli and sprouts to Severus. He gave the child another cup of water to rinse out the taste, before leading him out of the lab.

"This is my personal potions lab." He explained shutting the door behind him. "It is dangerous to inexperience people of any age, so do not go in without my express permission, or with me escorting you. And don't touch anything once inside." He added, with a stern look. The boy nodded.

Progress! It only took a few hours!

He led the child back to the living room and gestured for him to sit again. The boy sat, less anxiously than before. Severus suppressed a smirk. Food, bath, clothes, and some potions. The boy was already warming up to him. And a haircut, he reminded himself, looking at the still bald head. Hopefully it would grow back quickly enough. He took his own place in his armchair.

"I've taken care of your immediate needs." Severus began. "But there is still much to discuss and do. Dinner isn't until another 2½ hours. I always eat promptly at 5:30 every evening unless something prevents me such as a meeting or what-have-you. I will expect you to eat with me at every meal. Breakfast is 7am sharp. Be dressed and ready for the day by then. Your bedtime is at 8:30 in evening. Which brings us to two topics. The first is that I don't have the necessary things to fully provide for you right now. Meaning that I need to go shopping. Preferably today. However, to get a full list of the things I need to buy, I need to check your literacy level, as well as consult with Madame Pomfrey on an appropriate diet."

The child was simply looking at him, his eyes focused on his chin area. There was a moment of silence as Severus contemplated the boy before him. "Can you read or write at all?" He abruptly asked.

The boy shook his head. Not sure whether to sigh or curse the Dursleys, Severus chose neither. "That makes things both easier and harder." He said, immediately casting his mind to the appropriate supplies. He'd never taught someone how to read from scratch, but a few neglected or underprivileged or simple children had passed through his house, leaving the responsibility to bring up their literacy skills to an appropriate level before assigning a housemate for continued tutoring. He would just have to start with the very basics. And the boy, while young, was old enough to pick up things quicker. Probably.

"With your dietary needs," He focused on the other issue. "I will need confirmation from you when you feel full to ensure I'm getting the right amounts. What you need is simple enough, and there are guidelines for how much, but an actual statement from you would help me the most. So," He continued as the boy sat in silence. "Whenever we sit at meals, I need you to eat as much as you can without stuffing yourself. As soon as you are full, tell me. Also, if you finish your meal and are still hungry, I need to know." He got a blink in response.

"Also, you are dehydrated. Make sure to drink a glass of water every few hours without fail. I'll get a stool for the kitchen so you can reach the upper cupboards." He mentally added it to his list. "Now, I must contact Madame Pomfrey and check on the potions. After that, we will go shopping. There is a bathroom just back there, first door on the right." He pointed down a hallway past the stairs. "I'll be in my lab, but probably no longer than a half hour or so. Knock if you need something. You are free to explore the house. There shouldn't be anything breakable but be smart about it. Don't go outside. I'll have to set up wards to better encompass the yard." He muttered to himself as he stood and made his way to his lab.

* * *

"But why exactly do _you_ need to know something like that?" Poppy Pomfrey had always been good about asking as few questions as possible when it came to medical care. Usually because she'd been at her job long enough that she didn't _need_ to know, but also because she knew that many students only came to her because she didn't ask questions. Every now and then, something came her way that baffled her or was odd enough to stir her curiosity. Such as Severus Snape requesting to know what was an appropriate dietary plan for someone that was suffering from extreme malnutrition.

Only about a week since the term ended, Poppy was still going over all her books and supplies. She didn't start assisting at the small health care center for underprivileged people – like she did every summer – until next week. She was surprised to see Severus' head in her office fireplace, and even more surprised to hear his reasons for being so.

He looked unfathomable, as usual, but since he wasn't actively occluding, and Poppy had known him for about 15 years now, she saw the signs of discomfort and Slytherin sneakiness he tended to exude when he had knowledge that he didn't want to share. Which was pretty much all the time but it was more pronounced at this moment.

"Is it necessary for you to know?" Severus countered in his usual drawling tone. "Suffice it to say that I require this information, now if you have it."

Poppy raised a brow at his words, but, realizing that she wouldn't get an answer from him anytime soon, she acquiesced. Going to a filing cabinet in the corner, she rifled through it before pulling out the needed folder. "I don't have a copy of this since it is so rarely needed." She warned with a sharp glare. "I expect this back at your earliest convenience. Preferably before the start of next term."

"I assure you Madame, that you will get it back by next week at the latest." He assured the Medi-witch. "Probably sooner. Thank you." He nodded to her, a gesture that looked slightly odd since all that was visible was his head. His hand appeared next to him though as he reached out to take the proffered file. Poppy nodded in acknowledgment, handing the folder over.

Without another word, Severus' hand and head disappeared, the green floo flames dying down. Poppy pondered the oddity of their communication and his request. The most probable reason for needed that information was that he had encountered someone that was extremely malnourished and wished to nurse them back to health. The Medi-witch wondered why he didn't just check the person in to St. Mungo's. Who could it be that caused Severus Snape to refuse professional help, insisting he take care of it himself?

Poppy shook her head. Most likely he needed the information for an experimental potion or something. He'd occasionally turned towards her expertise when creating, regardless of his own experience in healing, required for anyone attempting a potions mastery. That was probably it, she assured herself and put the matter out of her mind. She had to finish the last bit of paperwork and number-crunching before she could close up the hospital wing for the summer.


	3. Chapter 3

Severus had spent a good 15 minutes on figuring out the boy's diet. He made painstakingly detailed lists and options as well as possible issues that might arise and most likely reactions to expect. This prompted him to add books on child psychology, specifically guides for abused children, to his ever-growing shopping list. Although, those would probably be best to owl-order.

His planning was interspersed with working on the various potions he was still working on. It would have been infinitely more convenient to just purchase the necessary potions or procure them some other way already completed, but many years as a death eater and later spy, as well as his own natural paranoia and pickiness, caused him to insist on brewing them himself. Assured quality rather than convenience had always been his motto concerning potions.

After another hour, he realized he was stalling. The potions did not have to actually be watched. And if he was quick, the shopping trip would only take an hour, to an hour and a half tops. Hopefully.

He found the child slowly making his way through all the rooms, studying them in detail. For what purpose, he could only speculate, but the boy instantly snapped to an almost attention, if he wasn't hunched in the slouch of the low self-esteemed.

"We need to go and get a few things." He said without preamble. He hated shopping in person. He owl-ordered as much as he could, but most of the things he needed today were somewhat time-sensitive. "Here's a pair of socks," He offered the child plain white socks he had transfigured. "I put your shoes and coat in the entryway for now till your room is fixed up. Let's go."

He turned and swept out of the room, knowing without looking that the boy was following him. He got his own cloak on and then helped the struggling boy put on his sock and shoes, inexperience making him clumsy, even if he had a grasp of the concept.

Before they left, Severus took his wand and pointed it at the tell-tale scar on the child's forehead. A simple glamour charm hid it from view. He didn't bother explaining why to the boy, and knew he wouldn't be asked. He held out his hand for the boy to take. During the first apparition, from Privet Drive to his house, the boy hadn't understood when he held out his hand, trying to give the bundle just like before. Severus had had to manually take the child's arm himself.

Now, after a moment's pause, the boy stretched out a tiny, slightly trembling hand, gently resting it in Severus' much larger palm. He gripped it firmly, still ignoring the flinch when he did so. He also ignored the littleness of the hand. It made the boy seem even more fragile.

"Brace yourself." Was all the warning he gave before grasping his wand in his other hand and turning on the spot.

* * *

The apparition point in Diagon Alley was in a large niche roughly in the middle. Severus continued to hold on to the boy's hand, knowing how easy it was to get lost or pulled apart in the busyness of the alley. Beginning of the summer holidays and all that. He was not making excuses.

The boy trotted along, as silent as always, letting himself be pulled along as Severus made his way briskly to Gringotts. He slowed a little when he heard the short breath as the child struggled to keep up with his own purposeful long strides. Children had much shorter legs, he reminded himself. They couldn't walk nearly as fast.

He didn't like to linger, and much of his speed had been motivated by his desire to be gone as quickly as possible. Already he was getting a few stares from families of children he taught, who'd heard stories of the Bat of the Dungeon.

They made it to Gringotts with no encounters or hassle. Severus strode in the large double-doors without a second glance, though he could see from the corner of his eye, the boy staring wide-eyed at everything, like he'd been doing since they first apparated to the Alley.

He marched up to a teller and waited for a moment for the goblin to acknowledge him. Dark brown eyes, like a murky mud, raised from whatever paperwork he'd been doing.

"Can I help you?" He asked in a tone that spoke of the strong desire to do just the opposite. Severus ignored the tone.

"Yes. I need to make a withdrawal from my vault. Number 184. Severus Snape." He answered in short perfunctory words. The goblins' inherit no-nonsense style with banking had been their only redeeming quality, as far as Severus was concerned. He withdrew his key and presented it to the goblin, who took it, squinted at it for a moment, as if he expected it to be a fake, then glared at Severus when it was proven genuine. He grumpily handed it back to the professor and gestured him towards the door leading to the vaults, calling some goblin-lackey to escort them.

He had never really like the cart ride, never having experienced it with a child's innocence and wonder, already being a legal adult by the time he'd been able to open his own vault. The boy sitting practically on his lap, however, was obviously thoroughly enjoying the ride. It was thankfully short, only down two levels, but when they got out, the child had a gleam in his eyes and a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Inside his vault, Severus collected what he deemed the appropriate amount, having done a rough estimate beforehand and erring on the side of excess. He saw the boy's already wide-eyes grow at the neat stacks of gold, silver, and bronze coins. He didn't know if the child had any experience with muggle money and wasn't sure if that would make it easier or harder to teach the wizarding money system.

Severus ushered them back into the cart, having spent barely 5 minutes in his vault. The ride back wasn't quite so bad, not having many drops, but the professor was grateful to reach the entrance of Gringotts.

Walking back into the bustling street, Severus realized that a verbal explanation of parts of wizarding culture wouldn't go amiss. Taking the boy's hand again, he made his way to a clothes shop, good quality with decent prices.

"That was the wizarding bank for London. Gringotts itself has many branches all over the world, and Goblins run them all." He supplied as they entered the shop, the bell on the door dinging. "Wizarding communities are relatively small so there usually isn't too much variety." Further teaching moments were halted as an assistant in light-blue trimmed robes walked up, smiling professionally.

"Good afternoon, sir! Welcome to Delkin's! My name is Roderick. How can I be of assistance today?"

"I need a full wardrobe for …my ward." He hesitated for just a moment on verbalizing his relationship to the boy. Was there a word for a child that you technically kidnapped from his legal guardians? Kidnappee? Prisoner?

He shook of the strange chain of thought as the shop assistant, a man with combed brown hair that looked just a little older than Severus, visibly brightened at the business being offered. Complete wardrobes would be pricey, with lots of merchandise. Roderick didn't even care why the small bald boy would need a complete set.

"Right away sir!" He responded excitedly. "Just come this way to get measure so we know what range to look in." They followed the man – who was practically skipping – to the back of the store were a few platforms and full-sized mirrors were set up. A desk was off to the side, a woman probably in her 50's sitting, adjusting a set of robes with deft fingers and a needle.

"Martha," Roderick spoke to the woman who looked up, her gray eyes magnified by a set of pince nez spectacles resting on her nose, a silver chain attached to keep them around her neck. "The young boy here needs to be measured. He needs a complete wardrobe." He grinned, and the woman, after a moment of surprise, grinned back, turning to look at the customers.

"Glad you chose Delkin's." She smiled grandmotherly at them. "We'll get you fixed up in a jiffy." She directed the boy to stand on a platform, although he looked uncomfortable and like he wanted to be anywhere but there, and then got to work taking measurements. Severus stood calmly, near enough to the boy to assure him of his presence, if such a thing was reassuring to him. He'd only known him for a few hours now.

Was it really only a few hours? Severus wondered. Felt like ages. Things were moving very fast.

"3 sets of casual outfits for everyday use, 1 set of play clothes for hard use, 1 set of semi-formal robes, nothing too fancy, make sure everything is summer appropriate. I will also be needing 5 pairs of pants for him and the same in socks. Better throw in a more appropriate cloak as well." Severus rattled off the Roderick, watching the child hold perfectly still for Martha. "Standard charms on them as well as a growth-spurt charm. I want these to last. And get me a single bag for all of this." He added before Roderick could hurry away. "I have a lot more stops to make."

Roderick was nodding so much, Severus was worried there was something wrong with his neck. He looked at his list to double-check that that was everything.

"Oh, and 2 pairs of pajamas. Summer ones." Roderick waited for a moment to make sure that was everything before scurrying off. Severus turned his attention back to Martha and the boy. Martha was trying and failing to get the boy to open up. When she asked direct questions, he answered, with as few words as possible, preferring to communicate through nods and shakes of the head. When she brought up topics that interested the average child, he just stared at the ground, letting her talk. When she asked what styles or colors or patterns he preferred, he just shrugged.

Slightly exasperated, she finished her measurements, pulled out a probably charmed piece of paper and wrote in the numbers. Severus assumed it would show up on Roderick's, if he had one.

She tucked the paper away and smiled at the child – who was examining the floor with apparent interest – before turning to Severus. He could tell her smile was just a bit forced.

"A shy boy." She commented, keeping her voice light. "A darling to be sure, looking more like a doll than a real boy. Speaks about as much as one, too." She laughed but quickly stopped when she received no reciprocation. Severus blinked. Maybe the child's way of getting rid of annoying adults was a good tactic. Avoid so-called pleasantries and only answer to direct questions.

Martha seemed to get the hint after her attempts with the boy and simply nodded and said, "We'll get those clothes collected lickety-split. Do you have any preference in color or style?"

"Style should be something classical and subdued, not looking like a bloody peacock strutting about. Color should be similar. Use your best judgement." He answered in clipped tones. He was ready to leave.

"Of course, sir. If you want to browse, feel free. If not, you and your son can sit in the waiting area." She pointed to a collection of padded chairs, probably meant for husbands and sons that were dragged at the whims of their female counterparts. Severus nodded once before beckoning to the child, who, although not looking up from the floor, could apparently see out of the corner of his eyes enough. He stepped down from the stand and silently made his way over to Severus, following him.

Choosing a chair that was pushed close to another one, he sat, gesturing for the child to sit next to him. They waited in silence for a moment, Severus looking over his list and planning the best route to get from where they were to home as quickly as humanly possible. He was drawing a mental map of the alley when Martha came up to them, holding a few sets of what looked like kid's pajamas.

Severus wrinkled his nose at some of the patterns, moving griffons and flying broomsticks. The colors were mostly subdued and he could see a few patterns that were stationary.

"Here are some sample pajamas. Would you like to pick out which ones you like?" She asked with a sweetness that grated at Severus' teeth. But he conceded that the child should be allowed to pick his sleepwear. Maybe he like the moving patterns. Severus didn't understand how anyone could sleep in such clothes. He would feel like he had bugs constantly moving around his body.

He looked next to him and saw that the child had glanced up when the woman lifted her arms for display. However, for just a moment, when the child saw the moving patterns, a look of horror came on his face before it was gone again, the blank face he normally wore back in place. Severus suppressed a smirk. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who preferred stationary patterns.

He told as much to the lady, who seemed put out by their preference. By the ratio of moving patterns to still ones, Severus guessed that she preferred the moving ones. At least for children. He chose not to think about her own sleepwear preferences.

Another ten minutes before both Roderick and Martha reappeared, carrying bundles of clothing. They presented all the choices to the two sitting customers, Severus vetoing any style or color that he thought to flamboyant. When he got down to several colors that he thought were appropriate, he turned to the child.

Knowing that just asking for his opinion would get nowhere, he instead gave the order, "Pick 3 casual outfits and 1 play outfit. Those ones are the sturdier material for play." He pointed to a few set of robes, free-floating due to Roderick's magic. "Those," He pointed to the group of formal robes. "Are for any formal gathering. Pick one. And pick 2 of the remaining pajamas. I don't care what color or style for any of the clothes. You will be wearing them, not me, and I find them all acceptable. Be quick. We have a lot of stops to make."

The boy nodded his acceptance of the command, and got up, walking along the line of clothes pointing at his choices without hesitation. His demeanor suggested that he was doing it half-heartedly, not caring what he was picking, but Severus saw the way his eyes flicked to each set of robes, running up and down them, brightening slightly when he came across a color he liked.

Severus was pleased when the boy's choices were well-matched to his own, mostly dark clothing and the simplest styles. The formal robes caused his mouth to twitch, when the child chose the pair of black robes that had green and silver trimming. It was the most Slytherin choice available, and Severus was amused that the son of two Gryffindors preferred the that next to the set with dark maroon trimmings.

He held back his smile when, despite Martha's not so subtle prompting to pick the more fun colored/patterned pajamas, the boy picked a dark green pair with a pattern of blowing leaves – completely stationary – and a light blue pair with white clouds – also stationary. They were by far the plainest pair offered.

As soon as he was done, Severus practically jumped up. "Please wrap the purchases in an Extended Bag. I'll pay at the register." He strode forward, not waiting for the two workers, the boy trailing behind as always. Within minutes, seeing his impatience and steadily deepening scowling with every extra second, the clothes were wrapped in brown paper, tied with twine, and set in a simple bag with a minor undetectable extension charm for large orders like this, the store's logo blazed on either side of the bag.

Severus paid and accepted the bag, absently taking the child's hand as he strode out, happy to never see the inside of a clothing store again for at _least_ a few years. Scowling at how much time was spent in just the first store, Severus picked up the pace, his grip firm as he pulled the boy along, trying to find the balance of an acceptable pace for him and a feasible pace for the boy.

Shoes were bought quickly, a pair of everyday ones and dress shoes to go with the formal robes. Severus was like a one-man army, walking with purpose into each store, getting people to practically run when he snapped orders, intent on being home in time for dinner. Bags accumulated, and since he refused to let go of the child's hand while they walked, he cast a few featherlight charms on some of them, and had the boy carry a few of the smaller ones.

Finally, after what felt like days but was actually a record two hours, Severus finished his last purchases and Flourish & Blotts', getting a range of books to teach children the basics in everything. He made a mental note to look in the muggle side of things, knowing that a pure wizarding schooling lacked depth and diversity. He wanted the child to know both sides of the world as intimately as he did. There was much to be gained in being able to slip into both worlds without raised suspicion.

The last bag added to the many already clutched in his hand, Severus didn't even wait to leave the shop, turning and disapparating on the spot.

Back in the entryway of his one home, he visible relaxed. He really hated shopping. He let go of the child's hand and took all the bags from him, leading the way into the living area. Setting the bags on the couch, he announced, "I have to check on the potions I'm brewing. Go hang up your coat in the entryway. Mine as well." He removed his large black cloak and handed it to the boy, who accepted it without question.

"I need to start dinner right after, so we can get your room ready and your stuff put away after." He quickly made his way to his lab, cancelling a stasis charm so he could work on both potions. 10 minutes later, he left to make dinner and was somewhat surprised to see that the child, after hanging up their coats, had opted to stand silently against the wall of the living room. Severus had almost missed him, as he stood as still as a statue, eyes slightly unfocused as he daydreamed. He raised an eyebrow at the boy but shook it off, heading into the kitchen. If the boy wanted to stand in a corner and do nothing, he was more than welcome to.

Severus' notes on the proper diet for undernourished children were set on the counter where he'd put them earlier. After a brief check, he set to work making a nutritional yet light meal for the boy, and a slightly heavier meal for himself. Severus wasn't a big eater in general, but he certainly ate more than a half-starved 8-year-old.

Dinner was finished quickly and, having no desire to lazily yell for the child, simply walked out to get him. The boy was still standing in the corner.

"Dinner is ready, child. Come, let's eat." He beckoned and the boy, as if hit with an animation spell, instantly sprung to life, hurrying after Severus. He sat down at his usual spot and, when he saw the boy hesitating at the doorway again, gestured for him to sit at the other chair. He quickly served the boy first, then himself, before tucking in.

A few bites in, he saw that the child was simply staring, somewhat wide-eyed at him. Or, more specifically, at his shoulder. He sighed. The annoying habit of _not_ looking him in the eyes was grating his nerves.

"What are you waiting for?" He asked, somewhat impatiently. "Eat up. Stop when you feel full but if you think you can eat more than what is on your plate, let me know and I'll put more on." He watched as the boy lifted a shaky arm, gripping the fork – somewhat awkwardly but after what he saw at the Dursleys', he wasn't at all surprised at the lack of proper table manners – and took a small bite of his food.

Green eyes lit up, even as the face remained carefully neutral. The boy was obviously enjoying his food, his eagerness for each bite followed by the way he savored each morsel, plain to see. Satisfied that the child was eating, Severus returned to his own meal. They ate in silence until the child carefully put down his fork, a few bits of food still on his plate. He eyed them longingly but refrained for eating them.

"Are you full?" Severus asked, not surprised that he hadn't finished his meal. The boy nodded. "Very well." Severus said, finishing his own last bite before wiping his mouth on his napkin and rising, taking his dishes with him. "Grab your plate. You can help with the wash up and putting away the leftovers." The boy rose without a word, carrying his dishes carefully to the sink.

Severus pulled out some containers for the leftovers – none for him since he only made enough of his food for a single serving. A decade of making food for one gave him plenty of practice in serving sizes – and scooped them in. He took the bits left on the child's plate and added those to, figuring since only the boy would be eating it, he wouldn't worry about germs being shared and whatnot. He put it in the fridge, then turned to the boy before closing the door.

"Those are yours, child." He said, pointing to the leftovers. "Whenever you feel hungry, just come in here and make yourself some. I won't touch any of it." He assured. He figured the boy would be slightly nervous about not being fed regularly, and, from his own experiences, guessed that the child would probably start sneaking food and making a stash somewhere for insurances sake. Not wanting to find week old, moldy leftovers in the bottom of the boy's wardrobe, he decided to address it immediately.

"You have free reign of the kitchen and all the food in it. I simply ask that you avoid the fires without at least letting me know, in case you burn yourself, and that you keep it relatively clean and neat. Food stays in the kitchen at all times expect for tea time, where I will bring a tray out to the living room." He shut the fridge door. "Eat what you want when you want as long as you eat your meals that I cook you as well. I don't have any sweets because I'm not one to indulge, but when I do get them, I expect you to ask for permission before having any. Any questions?" He waited as the boy shook his head. "Very well. I'll wash. You can dry."

He took out his wand to conjure a small stepping stool for the child to more comfortably reach the countertop. He gave the child a dishcloth and then got to work on the few dishes. The work was familiar and oddly calming. He recalled suddenly, doing the same thing with his mother, but being in the child's place with his mum in his own. When he grew up and both his parents died, he still preferred to wash the dishes the muggle way, probably for nostalgia's sake.

The boy was quick and efficient, drying thoroughly and quickly. He was obviously an old pro at doing dishes. Severus fought back a scowl at the implications. He would have to get the boy to open up eventually, talk about his experiences so he could work his way past them. Severus didn't think he was a good candidate for a listening ear, but since no one except him knew that the child was here, the options were very limited.

With two sets of hands, the few dishes were quickly finished. Severus dried his hands and put away the dishes, allowing the child to see where everything was. Finished, Severus led the child back into the living room to collect the bags that still sat on the couch, giving a few of the lighter ones to the child.

He took the boy to his old bedroom, unused for over a decade now. The mattress was technically new, still in its plastic wrapping, although a layer of dust covered everything. The furniture was old and worn but sturdy. When Severus had first moved into the master bedroom, he'd had the notion of turning his old bedroom into a guest room. He'd gotten no further than purchasing the mattress.

Setting down the bags against the wall, he drew his wand. "Cover your mouth, child. I need to clean this room up a bit before we can put the things away." The boy did so just in time, as with a flick of his wrist, Severus caused a dust storm to suddenly appear in the room, swirling a bit before suddenly vanishing, leaving the room no less shabby, but much cleaner and dust-free.

Severus coughed to clear his throat. He hadn't realized it was that bad. "Well," He began looking around the room. "This will be your room for as long as you are here." He explained, heading to the mattress to remove the wrapping. "The mattress is unused, as you can see." He said wryly. "I'll get the bed ready. You put away your clothes in the wardrobe. Neatly please." He gestured to the dark wooden wardrobe against the far wall. The child sprang into action and was done before Severus had even managed to put the first fitted sheet on.

Seeing the boy standing somewhat nervously as he watched Severus make his bed, Severus nodded to the rest of the bags. "Those are all your things so you can put them where you like. You may leave the toiletries in the bathroom." Once again, the child rushed to comply. Severus acted as if he were focused on putting the pillowcase on the new pillows he'd bought, but he watched out of the corner of his eye as the child carefully pulled each item out of the bags, before finding a suitable place for them.

Books, both for school and _practice_ – he did _not_ buy children's novels just for the child's entertainment – went in the bookcase in neat rows. Writing and school supplies went in the desk, quills and ink jars placed carefully to prevent breakage. Shoes were lined neatly against the side of the wardrobe. Then the _educational curios_ – not _toys_ – were almost reverently placed in appropriate places around the room, filling the empty spaces in his bookcase, wardrobe and desk.

Severus finished with a final pat of the large quilt to smooth out wrinkles. The child was trying to install the drapes. Severus quickly took over, using his considerable height to make short work of it. He noted absently that he window was really quite filthy, making the sunlight shining through, weak and greatly dimmed. Frowning, he flicked his want, removing the grime from both sides of the window. Instantly the room brightened, sunlight shining through unfiltered.

He stood back to survey the room. It now looked almost lived in, although there seemed to be an almost empty feeling to it, for all the filled shelves it held. Probably the lack of a personal touch, he mused to himself. He frowned at the bare floor. He'd have to get something for that. Slippers were all well and good but extra carpeting would hurt. And the floors needed a good scrubbing, not just the magical dusting he'd done.

He cast a more critical eye around the room. The walls could probably benefit from that too. He took out his wand and waved it around the room. Like an invisible team of house elves working at an inhuman pace, the floor seemed to scrub itself clean, a momentary sheen of wetness quickly disappearing, leaving a worn yet clean floor in its place. It didn't stop at the floor, instead climbing the walls, even behind the furniture, and crawled across the ceiling, the circle shrinking till it disappeared completely.

The whole room seemed a few shades lighter, although still somewhat dark considered the walls and floor were a natural dusty gray color and the furniture all a dark wood.

Not entirely sure why, he turned to the child you'd been gawking at the cleaning spell as it worked its magic, and asked, "Do you have a favorite color?" The boy jumped at being addressed and looked at him, before flicking his eyes down. He shook his head, although Severus was too sure of the truth of that answer.

"Well, do you have a preference at least? Would you like a different color wall?" The child's eyes widened before a shuttered look appeared. He shook his head again.

Now convinced that the boy was holding back, he decided that actions speak louder than words, and raised his wand. "How about red?" He asked and instantly the walls became a bright red. Severus grimaced. Not even a Gryffindor could stand to look at those walls all day. The boy was now staring in shock at the walls.

"Brown – oh no, that looks sickly. White – boring. Yellow – _heavens no_. Orange isn't any better. Purple – no. Maybe a metallic – like bronze – no – silver – I feel like I'm in a metal room. Blue is nice. Green makes it look a bit like were in a forest or something." His commentary was assisted by said colors covering the walls before being switched to the next. "I've an idea. How about a pattern?" He wove a pattern in the air and the both watched as a pale blue appeared on both the wall and the ceiling, punctuated by several fluffy looking clouds. About three-fourths of the way down the walls, the blue gave way to green, rolling hills lining the room. The green seemed to ooze off the wall and onto the floor, a green carpet appearing, mimicking blades of grass. It rolled out, creeping across the floor like a living being.

The boy looked a little startled when it reached him and he quickly stepped over the expanding line of carpet. Although it looked like grass, it was incredible soft and thick. Severus gave another jab with his wand the clouds started to gently float along the ceiling and walls, as if directed by a soft breeze.

"How about that?" He asked. The boy simply stared in open mouthed wonder. He smirked to himself. Magic was fun when someone appreciated it like that.

"Now, like I said earlier," He lectured, tucking his wand away. "This is your room. Do with it as you will. I would appreciate you keeping it clean but a bit of a mess won't hurt anyone. These things are all yours to do with as you will as well, and again, I'd appreciate it if you took care of them. It's now approaching 7, so I'm going to finish up the potions then we can have an after-supper tea in the living room and discuss your scheduling with schooling and whatnot. I'm on summer hols so I can take care of that myself." He waved a hand. "We'll discuss more during tea. Get yourself comfortable, look around, feel free to move things around, examine your new things or what have you. I'll call you when tea is ready."

He left quickly, seeing the look in the boy's way too expressive eyes, like he was about to start crying. Severus didn't handle tears. Period.

* * *

He finished bottling the last potion before setting up the tea. He hesitated as he fixed up the tray but took out a tin of thin biscuits. Normally he didn't bother with them but he figured he'd leave them on the tray for the boy if he wanted them. He brought out the slightly battered tray, setting it on the coffee table before going to the stairs.

He was about to call for the boy when he rethought that. Undoubtedly, the child wouldn't react well to being shouted at, even in normal situations. He trekked upstairs and looked in the boy's room.

Nothing was moved from where it had been placed originally except for one thing. The big black stuffed teddy bear that Severus had bought when he saw the child give it a double glance. He justified himself, saying that the boy never showed an interest in anything else he'd gotten and it would provide the comfort Severus knew he wouldn't be able to provide himself. He didn't do cuddles either.

Both boy and bear were sitting in the middle of the room. The bear was sitting facing the child, who stared back at the glass eyes with an almost creepy kind of intensity. It was like he was having an intense mental discussion with the stuffed toy. As Severus watched, the child would stretch out one of his skinny arms and as gently as if it were a priceless artifact, would give it a small pat, sometimes on its head, sometimes on its arm or belly.

The boy sat with his knees pulled into his chest, one of his arms wrapped around. Severus noticed that they were about the same size when the child sat like that.

Shaking off both maudlin and murderous thoughts, Severus knocked the doorframe lightly. A bald head whipped around and Severus saw those bright green eyes.

"Tea." Was all he said before moving away, back downstairs. He poured them both a cup of his preferred blend. The child had followed silently, standing on the other side of the coffee table from where Severus sat back with his own cup. He noted that the boy had brought along the bear, holding it tightly, his arms wrapped around it. He probably should have bought the smaller version of the bear, he thought to himself. This was big enough that all Severus could see of the child was the arms wrapped around it, his waist down, and his eyes up.

"Sit down." Severus nodded to the couch next to him. "There's your cup. There's sugar if you want some, and biscuits." He kept his expression neutral and bland, sipping idly from his cup, as the boy cautiously sat down, placed the bear on the side furthest from Severus next to him and picked up his own cup. Every movement was deliberate and slow. Severus saw those green eyes watching him from lowered lids. Finally, the child took a small sip of tea, unsweetened.

Severus took a moment to collect his thoughts before he began.

"I don't know how long you will be here." He said, looking absently down at the tray on the table. He pushed away the thought that he still had to report to Dumbledore before the day was up. Who knew what _his_ plans were. "We will labor under the assumption that you will be here for at least the Summer. That being said," he took a sip of his tea. "We need to design and retain a schedule that will work for both of us. As stated previously, I am on break until September and had no real plans beyond some brewing and experimenting. You, however, need much. I have a full list of potions that you need to take on regular schedules. Meals are already scheduled included the necessary dietary plan to assist in your physical recovery, but you need other things as well. Water being a big one, sun, a close second. It's important to stay hydrated and active. Then there is your schooling. At the very least, you need to be taught the basics of reading, writing, and mathematics. I would include some kind of social interaction but considering your past, I feel that we might be better suited to leave that until you are …better." He took another sip and contemplated their immediate future.

"I've written up a basic schedule that we can work on for this coming week and adjust accordingly." He nodded to the parchment next to the tray. "I will post it on the fridge. When you learn to read, you will be able to follow it without my help. For now, I will explain orally for you.

"In the morning, I will wake you at 6:30. That will allow you plenty of time to get ready by 7, when we will have breakfast. At 8, we will start on your schooling, an outline of a curriculum is also written down, although I left that down in my lab. I will go over it when we start tomorrow. We will work thus until noon, when we break for lunch. After, you have an hour and a half of play, at least half of that time must be spent out of doors. I have a yard in the back. We will reconvene at 2:30 for the wizarding lessons, which will range from basic herbology, potions, identifying common magical creatures, history, spell theory, and the like. This will continue till 5:30, when we break for supper. After supper, you have free time to do as you like. We will continue to have after-supper tea time at around 7 every night. Bath time will be every night at 8 as I expect you to develop a habit of hygiene. Bed time is 8:30. We won't have schooling on the weekends so those days will be personal time or when we run errands and the like."

Severus finished the rest of his tea in silence, observing how the boy was taking in this new schedule from the corner of his eyes. The child had been sipping his tea methodically, his own green eyes staring down at the tray as well. His face was void of expression as always. Severus made a mental note to schedule a trip to a mind-healer.

When Severus finished his cup, and the boy's cup was empty as well, he spoke again. "You may have more tea if you like. Or biscuits." He noted that the boy had not touched the treats. "If not, then you are free to go until bath time, in –" he checked the clock on the mantel. "Half an hour. "Unless you have questions you'd like to ask, or any comments you'd like to voice?" Severus asked. He kept his tone calm and neutral, although he was secretly hopeful that the boy would say _something_.

He was disappointed, however, when the child shook his head silently and put down the cup and saucer back on the tray. He stood up, hesitantly looking at the dirty cup. Severus waved him away. "Leave it. I'll take it back in when I'm done." The boy nodded in understanding before collected the bear and quietly leaving, heading back up the stairs and, presumably into his new room.

Severus sat for a while more, getting another cup of tea. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was approaching what was now bath time. Mentally, he groaned. It wasn't even 8 yet and Severus was ready for this day to be over. Could he take three full months of this? He'd faced down his own drunk and abusive father, the gang calling themselves _Marauders_ , being a half-blood in Slytherin, the Dark Lord and his Deatheaters, Dumbledore and his Order members, and years of classrooms full of dunderheads hell-bent on blowing themselves and each other up.

He doubted he'd last a week.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Sorry it takes me so long to write. I haven't been feeling like writing for a while. But we'll see how it goes. Short chapter. Sorry.

* * *

Bath time was spent teaching the child how to brush his teeth and change into pajamas. Severus realized that he didn't buy a clothes hamper so added that to his owl-order list. There was always something to add.

Bed time started simply enough, several servings of potions quietly drunk, one of which Severus knew made people drowsy. The boy fought it valiantly, but the half-lidded eyes and unsteady sway as he stood next to his bed, still clutching the bear, gave away his exhaustion. Severus knew that a large part of that exhaustion was due to the events of the day. He was also looking forward to crashing onto his own bed, the sweet oblivion of sleep beckoning him already.

There was a slight hesitance when Severus had him actually get into bed. Considering the boy's former sleeping arrangements, he knew there was a certain level of disbelief when it came to accepting everything. So far, the lad had simply let Severus dictate everything and accepted everything without complaint. Now, Severus could see it was all catching up to him.

When the boy finally crawled into bed, he simply sat in the middle of it, obviously unsure whether he was allowed under the covers or even next to the pillows. If Severus weren't so tired, he'd probably be cheering at the boy finally showing something other than passive acceptance. As it was, he simply gestured for the child to scoot up to the head of the bed, and took it upon himself to cover him with the blanket. He wasn't tucking the child in. The boy just needed to understand. It wasn't like he would be doing this again.

Since the child refused to let go of the teddy bear, Severus was forced to put the blanket around it as well. And he was simply making sure that the blanket covered them both without slipping off during the night. Which is what he told himself as he adjusted the covers around both figures.

Eyes just as bright as they'd been all morning but mostly hidden under rapidly sinking lids, watched as Severus adjusted the blanket and then stood up. He surveyed his handiwork, the comforter tucked under the child's – and the bear's – chin, the tiny frame outlined showing just how small he was compared to the mattress. He sighed, then, dragging the desk chair over to the side of the bed, sat down on it.

His voice took on a softness that he hadn't shown that day. Like a distant rolling thunder that soothed instead of startled.

"I know that today has been long and you have many questions that you aren't asking." He began, his own eyelids beginning to droop. "This will probably all seem like a very strange dream for a while until you get used to it." He paused. The boy continued to watch him silently.

"I just want you to know that you are safe here. This is my home, and as long as I am able, no one will harm you while you are here, physically or otherwise. You probably don't believe me yet," He added when the only response he got was a slow blink. "But I give you my word. And that is not something I give lightly." He waited for a few moments but received no response. Sighing again, he got up with a soft groan, and put the chair back at the desk.

At the doorway, he turned off the overhead light, the night light turning on automatically. Severus hadn't been sure whether the boy needed one or not, but decided to err on the safe side since the child didn't seem to understand when he'd asked him about it in the store.

"Good-night. Harry."

* * *

Boy was confused. And tired. But a different tired than he normally was. Usually, he was tired because of all the chores he'd had to do with little to no food and no breaks. He was used to that kind of tired. So used to it, in fact, that he really didn't notice it anymore.

Now, he was a different kind of tired. Physically, he felt energized. He felt like he could run all night, and do all his normal chores without even stopping to catch his breath. But he was still tired. It was an odd juxtaposition of feelings.

He tried to contemplate the day he'd had so far. It had started normally enough, waking up in his cupboard, making Them breakfast, starting on his chores while They ate. He'd been washing the breakfast dishes when that fateful doorbell rang. He hadn't thought much of it when he went to his cupboard.

When the door to his cupboard had inexplicably opened, Boy had felt his heart stop. Then he'd had a strange interaction with the Man, before deciding to exit his cupboard. He still wasn't sure why he'd done that. He knew the Rules. But something about the Man had convinced him. For some reason, he trusted him. Probably.

Then the Man had offered to take him away. Boy's first reaction had been one of disbelief and confusion. Then Something had whispered to him. That Something that Boy had learned to trust more than anything. It was that Something that had whispered to him before, not with a voice he could hear with his ears but with a knowledge in his mind that he was being spoken to. It had whispered of safety. Of peace. Of food and warmth. Of the Man.

So he agreed.

According to the Man, he was a wizard, which Boy was inclined to believe, considering all that he'd seen him do. Clothes and shoes instantly appearing, going from one place to another in the blink of an eye. Not to mention that whole shopping trip Boy had been taken on.

From the moment that coat and those shoes had appeared on Boy, he'd been in a stupefied state, not really taking in anything, just letting it wash over him. Magic. Food. Clothes. A _Bubble Bath_. Toys. A Room. More food than Boy could eat. Magic medicine that washed away scars like the soap had washed away grime. Magic nasty-tasting potions that made him feel full, or energized, or pain free. A giant stuffed bear he'd been allowed to hold. A soft bed that felt like he was on a cloud. Large hands with long fingers washing him, clothing him, giving him food, _holding his hand_ , tucking him in.

Now, as Boy lay on this Cloud-bed, he tried to ponder the strange thing that the Man – that Severus Snape had said. It sounded like a name.

Hairy.

Boy felt like Professor Snape was calling Boy Hairy. Maybe it was a nickname. Instead of 'Boy' as he was usually called – or _freak_ , or _you_ , or _brat_ – or even the other names that Professor Snape had been calling him that day, softer names, like 'little one' or 'child'. Maybe it was a new nickname, one that pointed out his own hair-less state.

While normally, Boy would feel like it was another mocking name, this one had been said softly, tenderly. Almost – dare he say it – _lovingly_.

Not sure exactly how to define it and feeling that the warm squishy, wriggly feeling was too complicated to ponder on, he closed his eyes and was asleep almost instantly.

* * *

Severus wanted nothing more than to sink into his bed and fall asleep for the next several hours. Which is why he was now in his lab (which was also his study) sitting at the desk and contemplating exactly how he was supposed to report back to Dumbledore.

He should probably just tell Albus everything. There was no real reason to hide it. He hadn't done anything wrong. On the contrary, he thought his actions to not only be just, but necessary. Dumbledore would probably praise him for his decision to act immediately. Before he took Harry and gave him to a foster family.

That was what he wanted, right? He was busy, even during break. He constantly had people send requests for potions that they couldn't or wouldn't get elsewhere. It was practically a whole business that Severus had been doing since before he'd even obtained his potions mastery. He was busy!

And really, what did he know about raising a child. Sure, he was a teacher, had been one for many years now. He was even the head of Slytherin House, acting in _loco parentis_ for almost a hundred students every year. But that was different. Not to mention, in Harry's case, the boy was sure to have multiple traumas to overcome, ones that needed a firm but loving hand. Firm, he could do. Loving…

And even if he'd gone and bought all those things for the boy, didn't mean he couldn't just send them with him when he went to wherever he went. Probably someplace with two loving parents, probably a dog, plenty of money and love and such sickening sweetness, Severus was in danger of cavities just thinking about it.

Not to mention that the boy would undoubtedly want to leave as quickly as possible. No child, no _adult_ , liked to spend prolonged time with Severus Snape. Severus liked his privacy and his peace and encouraged the healthy berth people gave him. He purposefully kept his hair greasy and long, his face in a perpetual scowl, his clothes dark and drab. He avoided excess amounts of sun to keep up the pale, sallow complexion. People liked spending time with pretty people. They avoided people like Severus which was just what he preferred. He'd actually invented a potion that would clean his hair while still appearing greasy. Appearances were important.

Although, if he wanted to encourage the boy to develop proper hygiene habits as well as get plenty of sun, he'd have to sort of lead by example. The boy was obviously taking his dressing cues from how Severus himself wore his clothing. And it wasn't like he could just send the child outside without keeping an eye on him. This neighborhood was not known for being child-friendly, to say the least. And that's not even counting the _magical_ threats that the _boy-who-lived_ would face.

Yes, it was safer, not to mention healthier for Harry, to just be placed in some other home. Someplace that was an _actual_ home.

Severus continued to sit and contemplate all the many reasons why Harry Potter would and should be moved as far away from him as possible. He had a great long mental list by the time he realized he should report back to the headmaster in some way.

Not wanting to disturb Dumbledore, since it was already after 9 at night, he decided to pen his report. That way the old man would have irrefutable proof that he'd done his duty.

Setting down his self-inking quill, Severus reread his letter.

 _Headmaster,_

 _I have done as you requested and checked up on the boy._

 _All is well._

 _I'll be busy for the rest of the summer. Don't bother me unless the Dark Lord himself comes back._

 _S. Snape_

Ignoring the blatant fact that Severus _failed_ to mention anything about the boy now residing in his spare room upstairs, he folded the parchment, sealed it, and sent it away through the night by way of his pet owl that slept outside in a tree.

Severus watched the dark form disappear in the darkness of the night sky, listening to the vague sounds of Spinner's End at night, gazing at the few stars that managed to force their way through the light pollution and smog.

The night was warm, despite the sun's absence. For a moment, he allowed his mind to slip into the comforting blankness he typically used for Occlumency. He felt slightly detached from his body, from the night, from everything. He wrapped himself in the velvety emptiness like a blanket. He was no one. Nothing. Just _was_.

The distant sounds of shouting, some kind of domestic dispute, punctured his peace, and with a sigh, he drew himself together and walked back inside, locking the door with bolts and magic.

* * *

Probably only a few hours, but it felt like just a few minutes, when Severus was wakened. He was a light sleeper naturally, but years as a double spy honed that particular skill till he sometimes had to magically silence and seal his quarters to get any sleep. Tonight, with the addition of a new …guest, Severus opted to forego magic and even left his door open.

He blinked up at the darkened ceiling, instantly wide-awake. He strained his ears to hear whatever it was that woke him up, his fingers tight around his wand that he had no conscious memory of grabbing.

He heard slight noises. Faint and indistinct. He gave a soft sigh and got up, slipping his bare feet into his warm and worn slippers. Even on the warmest of nights, the floors of his house somehow retained a constant chill. He grabbed his night robe as he left the room, tucking his wand into the pocket.

The boy's – _Harry_ he berated himself. Call him by his _name_ , darn you – door was open, as he'd left it. He heard faint noises coming from the room. He looked in and saw by the soft glow of the nightlight, what was causing the noise.

The child – _Harry_ – had moved sometime during the night, probably recently. He was no longer on the bed. Instead, he and the bear were both in the corner of the room, squeezed into the space between the side of the wardrobe and the wall, with a pillow and the top blanket.

The b – _Harry_ had been adjusting the bedding until Severus stuck his head in. Now he froze, his eyes wide and glinted in the soft light, almost like a cat's, staring up at Severus.

Severus blinked a few times, wondering at the – at Harry's change in bedding. It took a moment before he made the connection. Harry spent probably his whole life at the Dursley's in a cupboard. A very small cupboard. With four walls and a low roof, just big enough for him to curl up in.

He took the liberty of stepping into the room and approaching th- Harry slowly, noting and ignoring the tensing of his muscles. He stopped a few feet away and then lowered himself to the ground, leaning up against the wall. He propped his knees up, resting his arms on them, more to show Harry that he wasn't going to touch him.

"Were you having trouble sleeping on the bed?" He asked, his voice a little rougher than he would have liked but still low and soft. "It's okay to tell me if you were." He added when the boy hesitated.

Jerkily, Harry nodded his head once, then cowered back into the wall, clutching the bear protectively.

"I see." Severus nodded thoughtfully, then leaned his head back against the wall and sighted. He was pretty sure pulling teeth was actually easier than getting answers from Harry. Or words at all.

Not looking at the still obviously terrified boy, he asked, "Is it because it's so big or too soft? Or a bit of both?" His eyes were closed and he kept himself relaxed to present as non-threatening an image as possible. He didn't think the bed was too soft, personally. To him, it had felt too hard, stiff from disuse. It didn't help that Severus hadn't been looking for a soft mattress when he'd bought it, going for price instead of quality.

There was a long pause before the boy whispered, "Big." He nodded, still keeping his eyes closed and his body relaxed. Good, he thought. That was a much easier fix than changing the softness of the bed.

"I could probably fix that for you, you know. So you don't have to sleep on the floor." He kept his tone soft and neutral. "Would that be okay?" He asked, looking over at Harry. The boy was still staring at him, his green eyes peeking over the fuzzy head of the bear.

He saw the nod and gave one in return. Not feeling particularly inclined to get up – he was _tired_ – he opted to pull out his wand from his position on the floor and point it at the bed. Four bed posts rose a few feet above the top of the bed. He would have made them taller but thought that that was about the height of the cupboard, if he remembered right. Bars stretched between them, like some kind of tree on magical miracle-grow fertilizer, connecting the posts. With a movement, dark blue cloth appeared stretched across the top, giving the bed its own ceiling. This was followed by more material draping down all four sides, metal rings attaching them to the bars.

The end product was not dissimilar to the types of beds at Hogwarts, although probably shorter. The material was thick enough to act as a barrier but thin enough to provide proper airflow. Wouldn't do to have the child overheat at night.

He tucked the wand away with a satisfied nod before turning back to Harry. The eyes were even wider and had a sparkle in them that Severus noticed whenever he did magic in front of the boy.

"Is that better?" Harry gave a brief nod, glancing between the bed and the older wizard. "Well then, let us try it and see if it works. If not, we'll figure something else out." He motioned for the child to rise first before following suit, albeit much slower and with decidingly more creaking and groaning. Really now. He wasn't even 30! What was that phrase he once heard? 'It wasn't the year, but the mileage'?

He gathered the pillows and blanket that Harry had been using to make a nest, letting Harry carry only his stuffed bear. He did have to direct the boy to climb up and then helped him re-situate the pillows and blanket. Standing up straight from leaning under the canopy, Severus took a moment to contemplate anything else that might trouble the boy tonight. His overtired mind couldn't think of anything so he mentally shrugged and figured that he'd take on whatever challenge arose as it did.

"I'm going to leave the curtains open but if you want to close them at any time, feel free to do so." He received a wide-eyed stare in return. Mentally he sighed. _One of these days_ he thought. _One of these days, he will feel comfortable enough to speak without prompting. I'll be sure to celebrate it_.

"Good-night Harry. Come get me if you need anything else."

He returned to bed, but once more left the door open. He waited for only a few minutes before he heard the faint sound of the curtain being drawn.

Smiling, he closed his eyes, his last thought of the night a satisfied, _progress_.


End file.
